His Little One
by Siakhuinn
Summary: Hyrule has had ten years of prosperity since Ganon was sealed away in the Sacred Realm, but is he as removed as they thought? When a freak lightning storm hits during the birth of the youngest Hylian princess, no one seems to think anything of it, but what does she see that others cannot? Is she doomed to a life of tragedy or will her heart find it's own way to happiness? G/OC
1. The Wizard

**Chapter 1 - The Wizard**

The clouds dissipated and the entire land breathed a sigh of relief. Ganondorf; the evil warlord and tyrant king was gone. He had been sealed away in the Sacred Realm along with all that remained of his power.

Link could practically hear the land rejoice at the death of its oppressors. The rocks and trees seemed to become more alive. The sun shone true and bright in the sky, lighting the desolate landscape in a way that none had seen in seven long years. The hero smiled with uncertainty at the woman by his side. Her face lit up and she breathed easily; her kingdom had been saved. Zelda returned the hero's smile and they left the wreckage of Ganon's castle behind them.

The people of the Hyrule rejoiced and began to rebuild. The animosity between the Hylians and the Gerudos was repaired and the neighboring kingdoms of Ordon and Eldin aided immensely in the rebuilding of the land. With the aid it received, Hyrule once again blossomed into a prosperous land, filled with honest, hardworking families of all kinds.

Throughout the years of rebuilding and replanting there was much cause for celebration among the citizens of the royal province. Zelda was crowned Queen of Hyrule not even a week after the demise of Ganon. Not long after, to no one's surprise, she and the Hero of Time were wed. Their first child was born a year later; a son. The kingdom adored the blond-haired, blue eyed prince and his never ending curiosity. Several years passed and the monarchs ruled the land in fairness and justice. Their second child was born three years after their son, this time a girl. She had the same golden hair as the rest of her family and great green eyes. Four more years of blessings passed, the threat of war came and went, but the citizens of Hyrule were never in a position to be concerned.

It was the night of a great storm — the tenth anniversary of Ganondorf's imprisonment — when Zelda was due to give birth to their third child. Lightning streaked across the sky and wind pummeled the strong stone walls throughout the night. The rain beat down on the hard stone as the Queen labored on through the evening. The shrill cry of a newborn pierced the night and a single bolt of lightning cracked across the clouds before the sky fell silent and still. The monarchs were immediately concerned at the storm's sudden disappearance. Zelda could feel the lingering magic in the air that had created the storm. It had been the result of some sort of energy surge. An unintended byproduct. She prayed her child was unharmed by its effects; newborns were incredibly susceptible to any kind of magic, especially the unpredictable types.

Link gave a concerned look to his wife. He did not know the rules as well as she, but he knew there was cause for concern. The midwife handed the crying infant to her mother and the tiny princess immediately relaxed and opened her eyes. It was extremely odd behavior for a newborn to open her eyes so early. The child's eyes were an unearthly pale blue and she seemed to be staring into the distance.

"Is she blind?" Link muttered to himself before holding up a single finger and watching his newest daughter follow it without a problem. He sighed slightly, there seemed to be nothing wrong with her; she was a perfectly healthy baby girl.

"Arasha is a good name for her." Zelda smiled. "Arasha Iarna."

Link smiled at his wife's choice of name. It was a Gerudo term for the rare desert storms that brought life to the barren lands. The storms were not famous for being tame, however. "I pray she does not entirely live up to her namesake."

* * *

The child grew up strong and healthy, she made friends with everyone she came across and was loved by all. There were no adverse effects from the night of her birth that Zelda could see, though she sometimes caught her daughter staring off into the distance as though seeing something that was not there. When she asked the small girl about it she would just frown slightly and shrug. She would occasionally say that places felt funny, but other than that, she was as normal as a princess could be.

* * *

Arasha sat quietly in the nursery, playing with her dolls. The small girl wished she could play with her brother's old wooden swords and shields, but her mother told her that she must learn to be a lady. The four year old crinkled her nose at the thought. She jumped at the sound of thunder crashing overhead. It always came suddenly, but never truly scared her. She always felt soothed by its presence. The child smiled at the window before turning back around to her dolls. She gasped and clutched the doll in her hand close to her chest as a man appeared before her.

She puffed out her chest and tried to stand up tall to hide her fear. "Who are you?" She demanded, trying to copy her mother's presence.

He turned to face the child. She noticed he had dark bronze colored skin and bright red hair. He was taller than her Father and wore a dark, soft looking tunic. He seemed to falter as he addressed the princess. "Mandrag." was all he replied with.

The observant girl recognized that the man looked confused, but only when she had asked his name. Was she supposed to know who he was? "What do you want?" She asked, trying to keep calm.

"Want?" He chuckled slightly and knelt down to her level. "Nothing. All I ask is that you tell no one I was here."

Arasha frowned suspiciously and stared into the man's golden eyes. After a careful surveying of his face she gave in. "Okay." She said, still slightly hesitant. "But," she added, "I will tell Father if you do anything bad."

The strange man nodded and a slight smile graced his lips at her boldness. "I understand, little one. What is your name?"

"Arasha Iarna Ruzantaze, Princess of Hyrule. Youngest daughter of Link and Zelda." She responded proudly, the way she had been taught.

The man faltered once more. It had worked, or seemed to, anyway. This girl was his key to escaping the cursed realm he had been trapped in. "It is good to meet you, little one." he said, and almost genuinely meant it. He saw immediately that she was a bright child with a great amount of heart; it reminded him of his own actions as a child, for as long as his childhood had lasted. Perhaps this would not be so bad.

"My nurse will be coming back soon." the girl remarked honestly.

"Then I shall leave you now." he said gently. "Farewell, Princess." He disliked being so kind and gentle, it was completely against his nature, but he needed her to trust him. "She would not be able to see me, anyway."

"Goodbye, Mandrag." The small girl said, pondering his parting words as she returned to her dolls.

* * *

A year passed and the youngest royal was moved out of the nursery into her own permanent chambers. She gaped at the expanse of her new room as she entered. For the first five years of her life she had lived in the nursery, and now this was to be all hers. The child grinned and jumped up onto her brand new bed. It was enormous; its expanse made Arasha feel very small and very grown-up at the same time. Suddenly, the princess felt saddened. She was to start her lessons soon; she could already read and write a little, but she wanted to run around and play. She would not cry on her birthday, she wouldn't.

As if summoned by her distress, a storm rolled in. Thunder echoed through the land and the wind picked up. Arasha grinned, her sadness forgotten, and ran to her very own window. She hesitated, but her curiosity overruled her fear and she opened the glass so she could see the sky. Her bright eyes lit up as she watched the lights streak across the sky. The rain blew in through the window and soaked her in her nightgown. She started to shiver, but did not want to look away.

"Best to close the window, little one."

Arasha jumped at the sudden and slightly familiar deep voice from behind her. She turned and recognized the man as he walked closer.

He gently shut the window before glancing down at the shivering princess. He frowned, looking around the room. A memory taunted him as he noticed the cold, empty fireplace. He had been a boy of ten when he had found his youngest sister shivering in the cold desert air. He did not know how she had crawled so far on her own. He had tried everything to warm her small body and get her back to her mother, but she had died in his arms before he could reach their mothers' tent. He set his jaw; this one could not die. She was the only way out; his connection to this world. He strode over to the fireplace and summoned the flames to life. He was slightly surprised when he saw he had succeeded. It was a small triumph; the barrier was weak on this night every year, and fire had always come easily to him.

Arasha stared at the man in awe. "You're a wizard!" she exclaimed through chattering teeth.

He said nothing as he guided her in front of the fire and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. He frowned heavily when the child grabbed his large hand in her own. He grit his teeth, suppressing the urge to jerk away and snarl at her. She would never trust him if he did not pretend to care.

He was unsure of how long he had stood there before the girl began to nod off where she was standing. He picked up her small frame and set her in the large chair next to the fire before his keen ears picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. He disappeared as the door opened to admit the queen.

Zelda smiled at her youngest child, asleep in the chair, as she walked into the cheerful room. Her smile quickly turned into a frown, she had not sent anyone in to light a fire in this room.

"Arasha." she said softly, bending down to her daughter's level.

"Yes, mommy?" she replied groggily.

"Who lit the fire in your room?" Zelda picked up her smallest child and realized that her hair was damp. "And why are you all wet?"

"I wanted to watch the storm." The little girl explained, trying to stay awake. "Then he lit the fire."

"Who lit the fire?" The queen asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"The wizard." Arasha replied as she curled into a ball and fell into a deep sleep.

Zelda was extremely concerned; her daughter claimed there had been a wizard in her room. Her thoughts immediately jumped to the imprisoned warlord. She shook that thought from her mind quickly; they were safe from him. There had to be another explanation. Perhaps a servant had come up without her asking.

Arasha had a very active imagination, but this didn't feel right to Zelda. She was almost certain the child could see more than those around her, but she was unsure what that was. She was determined to get to the bottom of it, no matter how long it took.

* * *

The small princess began her lessons without complaint, though she did escape the grasp of her tutors occasionally to explore the castle. There were many afternoons where an exhausted tutor would come interrupt the King or Queen to report Arasha had escaped again.

The years passed, and every year on her birthday, once everyone had gone to bed and the last maid had come, Arasha got a visit from the mysterious man that no one else could see.

"I have been learning about all the different cultures this year." she told him on the night of her seventh birthday.

The man gave her a quizzical look.

"You are a Gerudo." she stated plainly.

"Guilty." he replied.

"What is it like?" the princess asked innocently.

"What?" The man said, more roughly than he had intended.

Arasha's eyes widened at his sudden harshness. "Th-The desert. What is it like?"

The Gerudo closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Patience was not something he had ever had a great amount of when it came to other people, but she was thirsty for knowledge, something he could admire in the small Hylian.

"It is very hot during the day," he began and Arasha immediately perked up, "hotter than you can imagine. When the sun goes down it becomes very cold, like the winter. It almost never rains, but when it does there is always a great storm and the oases fill with water and give the people that live near them a way to live."

Her face scrunched in concentration as she tried to imagine such a place. "There is lots of sand, right?"

He chuckled at her, he was sure he had made the same face when his mother had tried to teach him about the lands outside of the desert. He thought it impossible for there to be so much water that you could no longer see the ground beneath it. "Yes, little one, there is lots of sand. The wind is harsh and sometimes blows the sand up in a great storm. You cannot even see in front of you."

The princess' smile widened as he told her about his home. She could see that he loved it, but was almost sad when he spoke of it. She wished she could go see it; she voiced her thought to her companion.

He looked surprised. "Perhaps you shall, Princess."

* * *

**A/N:** Hello again! Don't worry, I am still working on my other story, I shall not forget all you faithful readers! I wrote the bulk of this story during Thanksgiving weekend, but I think it is going to be quite a bit longer than I originally planned. I had also planned for it to be a little more angsty than it turned out. You have been warned, fluffy Ganondorfs for all! (I don't think it's thaaat fluffy, but you shall have to decide for yourself.)

**Edit: **Fixed a couple of typos that I missed last night. =)


	2. A Tutor's Musings

It was her ninth birthday and Arasha sat up in her bed waiting for the storm and her friend to appear. He always came with the storm. She smiled when he appeared, then frowned at him. He always looked the same. "Why do you not get older?" she questioned. "I get older and Leila and Tywin get older. So do Mother and Father." Arasha looked at the Gerudo with confusion in her pale eyes.

"The place where I am is...different. Time doesn't pass there like it does here."

"Why aren't you in the desert? Can't you go home?" She asked, not able to imagine not being able to be in her home.

He felt his anger boiling up at her simple question. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "No. I am trapped here. You are the only one I can talk to, and only once a year."  
Her eyes grew large and her face fell.

"I don't need your pity." He snarled suddenly, recognizing the look on her face.

She trembled. "Maybe I can help." she whispered through her rapidly collecting tears.

He froze, he had never thought she would offer to help him. Perhaps he had done his job too well. He needed to be free before she learned who he was.

"Perhaps." he said, more calmly than he felt. "When is your first festival?"

Her eyes brightened and she wiped away her tears. "I go next year to the summer festival. Mother says I cannot go to the winter festival until I am sixteen." A frown creased her delicate face. "Even though it is on my birthday."

He nearly laughed. Seven years. How ironic. Seven seemed to be the Goddesses' favorite number. It seemed Din had no qualms with his power; she had given it to him, after all. He wondered if the three Goddesses were at odds as much as their chosen champions found themselves to be.

His gaze wandered back to the small girl and an old memory began to float up to the surface. His mother had been taken by the desert and he was left alone in the temple. His sisters had all died or left for other clans. He had been eleven years old. He had cried on the floor of the temple at the base of the altar until his tears turned into rage. He would never again care for anyone again, it had only gotten him hurt. Din had appeared to him in that moment, she had approached him calmly and looked into his hard golden eyes as he scrambled to his feet. He would not bow to her, not now. She seemed to smile at his defiance. 'You will carry my power,' she had said 'and do not despair, young Dragmire, there is one in your future yet who will not hurt you.' He remembered nothing after her words except waking up on the temple floor with a golden tattoo on his right hand.  
He fleetingly allowed himself to wonder if this girl had anything to do with what Din had promised him. He growled at himself for thinking such things, she may be much like he had been as a child, but she was no more than a tool for him. She was growing up, however, and he had little time. His powers had increased immensely in the nine visits he had made. He needed to increase his efforts, despite this. Seven years would not be long enough at the current rate. Ganondorf looked back at his small prize, she was sound asleep. She certainly trusted him, more than he ever thought she would. With that thought he departed back to the prison of the Sacred Realm.

* * *

"Arasha. Do try and pay attention to your lesson."

The thirteen-year-old princess glanced up from her drawing at her tutor. She was having a hard time listening to the dull voice of her teacher. She was attempting to teach the princess about the kingdom of the Gerudos, but her descriptions were so lifeless and cold, she spoke as though they were savages, no better than the animals. She had never said so, but Arasha could hear it in her voice. The blond girl wished for Mandrag's stories of his homeland, he seemed to make the place and its people come alive. The desert had so much more heart than her tutors could muster.

Arasha sighed. "I'm sorry, Elaine. I already know all these things about the Gerudos."

"Indeed?" The older woman was surprised. "Is there a particular reason for your interest? I had to teach you about the other kingdoms nearly from the start."

"I've just always found them fascinating. They think so differently than we do." Arasha replied quietly, unwilling to divulge the real answer.

"I see." Elaine said thoughtfully. "Why don't you write about what you know for me so that I can fill in any blanks without repeating things you already know."

The princess nodded, it seemed a decent plan to her. She picked up her quill and began to write, by the end of her lesson she had written down nearly everything she could remember about the desert people.

Elaine dismissed her and read through her pupil's paper. She had a surprising amount of knowledge for her age. She rolled up the parchment and sought out the queen.

"Your Majesty." She curtseyed respectfully.

"Yes, Miss Alucard, is there something wrong with my daughter's lessons?"

"No, your Grace. I merely had an idea in regard to the direction of her studies.'

"Go on. " The queen encouraged, gesturing for the tutor to walk alongside her.

"She seems very interested in Gerudo culture, my lady, and knows more already than I could ever teach her about both the land and people."

"You are suggesting I hire a Gerudo to teach her?" Zelda remarked thoughtfully.

"Perhaps, my queen." she seemed uncertain about making her thoughts known.

"Please." The queen encouraged gently.

"I think she may benefit from a visit to their country." she suggested shyly. "I know she is young, but I have heard you are excellent terms with their leader."

Zelda considered her suggestion carefully. "Thank you, Elaine. I shall speak to the king about this." she said kindly.

"Here is what she wrote today." The tutor said, handing the scroll to the queen before curtseying. She left promptly to oversee her pupil's next lesson.

Zelda quickly went to discuss their youngest child's newest interests with her husband. She knew he would not be busy now, he had just finished meeting with the kingdom's generals.

"What is it, my dear?" Link asked his wife gently as she entered his study.

"Arasha's tutor has brought up an interesting point." She began, handing him the princess' parchment. Her husband absently scratched his beard as he read his daughter's writings. "I know Nabooru had been wanting to know more about our people, and Elaine has told me that Arasha is just as curious about the Gerudo culture."

"What are you suggesting, love?" the king asked.

"I think all three of them could do with a taste of our ally's culture. Our children should take advantage of the opportunity I never had. Tywin can only benefit from Nabooru's leadership and the warriors' training I know he will receive. The girls are growing up as well and can learn much from the Gerudos."

"Nabooru is a great leader. She has become very wise since I first met her." Link mused, bringing his hand up once again to his full blond beard. A habit he had never gotten out of. "I shall send a messenger to her to inquire about it. We shall talk to Tywin and the girls this evening."

Zelda smiled. Link held the Gerudos in high regard since his own trials with them. It had been over twenty years since then and Nabooru had promoted nothing but peaceful trade with Hyrule.

She hoped their nearly adult children would be excited at a chance to see how another country operated.

Her hopes were mostly fulfilled. As she expected, Arasha was ecstatic to find she was going to visit the great Gerudo Desert. Tywin was eager to set off and learn of the neighboring kingdom firsthand; but Leila was not nearly as eager as her siblings. At seventeen, she was a strong willed girl and disliked the idea of leaving her home for a 'horrid desert'. She promised to be gracious, but she was determined she would not enjoy herself.

Seeing his sister's distress, Tywin attempted to console her. "Cheer up, sister. I am sure they have many things you will enjoy."

Leila sighed slightly at her elder brother. "I am sure there are. I just hate to leave." she said wistfully.

Tywin frowned slightly at his sister. "Is it Elarn?" he asked, suspicious.

Her blush told him all he needed to know. He laughed good naturedly. "My dear sister, do not be afraid you will lose his attentions because of a visit to the desert. He will understand." Tywin had spent much time with the noble in the practice yard and knew how much he cared for his sister. "You do not have to be out of contact with him, Leila."

She nodded, encouraged by her elder brother's words. "Is there no one you shall miss, brother?"

"Not in that way, no." he replied wistfully. He grinned. "Perhaps I shall snag a desert flower while we are there." he teased.

"I think not, Ty. They are not as readily 'snagged' as you think. They are warriors, and you are still a boy in their eyes."

He nodded, knowing the wisdom of her statement better than she did. He was only twenty. He knew the workings of his own kingdom back to front, and rivaled his father with a blade, but he knew almost nothing of the way the Gerudo fought. They would be entering their country as clueless as newborns. He looked around to inquire of Arasha's feelings, but she was gone.

"She is always running off." Leila sighed. "I don't know if I will be able to keep her out of trouble."

"Just do your best, Lei. We all will."

* * *

Arasha ran back to her quarters gleefully. She was finally going to the desert. She had raced back wanting to talk with Mandrag, but soon realized it was nearly six months before her birthday. She sighed, wishing she could somehow speak with him. It somehow felt wrong to visit his home without telling him first. She closed her eyes and flopped down on her bed.

"You did it, little one."

Arasha shot up, knowing he had appeared. He looked at her in wonder. "You are here!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

He stiffened angrily at her touch. Why did she insist on touching him? "You called me." he said simply, unclenching his teeth.

"I am going to the desert." she said shyly, breaking her contact and smoothing down her gown.

He stared at her, tempted to grin. She valued his opinion and desired his company. Things were getting easier for him in this world. The path became clearer with every visit. He could not yet truly physically leave, but it would come. Someday soon. He was incredibly patient when it came to his own schemes. He could not say the same think about his temper, but he did not bother to rein it in most of the time, regardless.

"You have power, little one." he said suddenly. She stared at him strangely. "The wise ones from my tribe can help you." The Gerudo said before disappearing.

Arash frowned at the space he had occupied a moment before. He had never left so suddenly before. Was he angry with her? She felt slightly hurt before realizing it may have been the time of year. He had told her once that he could only come on the day of her birth. She smiled suddenly; she was going to see the Gerudo Desert and he had come to see her.

* * *

**A/N: **A little shorter this time, but it's on time! What?! Hopefully everything pasted over well unlike last time =)


	3. The Desert

**Chapter 3 - The Desert**

Arasha's eyes widened as the canyon opened out before their caravan into a city, built right into the side of a cliff. The air had grown hotter since the had entered the winding canyon, but she had not been prepared for the blast of heat she received as her horse stepped into the sun. It was more arid than she knew was possible. Even her light cotton dress seemed to stick to her as she rode. She suddenly envied the scant cropped tops and flowing pants that the Gerudo women wore.

"Welcome to Gerudo Fortress." Nabooru grinned at the child's eager face.

They were greeted by the warrior women as their caravan entered the city and began to climb the terraces to the top of the city. Arasha could not keep the smile off of her face, despite the heat. Children scampered about under the horses' feet, all of them girls. She had doubted the legend that there was only a single male Gerudo born every hundred years, but now she was beginning to become convinced. She had not seen a single man or boy in the time it took to reach the top of the citadel.

"Come, I will show you to your rooms." Nabooru bade the young women to follow her. "Prince Tywin, we have made special accommodations for you. We are unused to having a male among us.

The prince nodded graciously and followed a priestess who beckoned him to come with her.

* * *

For a year, the young Hylians were taught about Gerudo culture. They were shown around the traversable areas of the desert and had even made a trip across the Wasteland to the Spirit Temple. They were taught the basics of the language and cultural interaction. There was also some form of complex honor system that their teachers had opted not to fully explain. You had to learn as a child, they would explain and gave it no more thought. After they had a basic understanding of these things, they were each sent to train in their respective places. Tywin was sent to the training camp to learn how to fight with their legendary warriors. Leila and Arasha stayed behind in the Fortress. Leila was to be taught by the priestesses of Din all the ways of the Gerudo. Arasha was delighted to learn she was to be trained by Nabooru herself. She and her sister continued to reside in the same chambers in the fortress that they shared, though they had little time to talk, they rose early and would return exhausted more often than not.

Nabooru surveyed Arasha. She was no longer the little girl who had come to the desert over a year ago. She held the same cheer and innocence as before, but she had blossomed among the desert people. Nabooru taught her about the theories of power before she began her training. The Gerudo sensed some form of power in the girl and was curious about it.

"I want you to open your mind to me child. So I can best aid you in your knowledge and training."

Arasha nodded. "What am I to do?"

"Just don't fight me."

The princess nodded.

A thought occurred to the bronze skinned woman. "If there are memories you wish for me not to see, put them somewhere safe, alright?"

The young woman immediately thought of her visits from the mysterious Gerudo man and locked those memories in a box.

"I am ready." she said nervously.

Nabooru grasped the girl's hands in her own and felt around inside her mind.

Arasha sat in front of the other woman as she watched, surprised she did not feel any different.

Suddenly, the elder woman gasped slightly and dropped the girl's hands.

"Is there something wrong?" Arasha immediately questioned.

"No." Nabooru said without hesitation. "It just takes a toll on me to do this." She smiled, "Your magic is much like my own."

Arasha grinned at her teacher, eager to start learning.

Nabooru smiled at her pupil and began to teach her the basics of healing. She hated lying to the spirited young woman, but she dare not push her away by questioning her. Hidden underneath her own power, there was a darker power; a power Nabooru recognized belonged to their former leader: a man she had helped imprison. It had seemed to stretch out like a bridge, connecting the girl to something in a different place. She had not had time to gather information; she had withdrawn at the first contact she had with it. It frightened her, but she worried more for the innocent child in front of her. She hoped there was no cause for concern, but she was not going to teach the girl anything but beneficial magic, just in case.

* * *

Three weeks before her sixteenth birthday, Arasha was summoned to the home of Irasi, one of the most respected warriors among the Gerudos.

The princess trembled slightly as she was led into the house. She was unsure of what to expect from the elder woman. Her loose white skirts flowed out behind her as she was ushered into an empty room. Free of furniture, the floor was covered in a well worn, but still beautiful Gerudo rug and various instruments hung on the walls.

"Arasha." Irasi greeted her warmly.

"Irasi." Arasha greeted her with the typical Gerudo gesture of respect. Status here was earned, not given.

"You are departing in three days to your own country. On the eve of a Gerudo's sixteenth birthday, she is taught the dance of our people, the ss'ari. We have many dances, but this is the most important in a woman's life. We are bidden to teach you early, though I wish you would stay so we could do it properly."

Arasha nodded, she knew several of the children's dances that were danced yearly at the Raasan Arviel; the festival of rain. She had heard rumors of this dance, but nothing ever substantial. She wondered why it was so secret.

Irasi smiled as she saw the princess' eyes light up in excitement. The Gerudo woman clapped her hands twice and three more women entered the room. Two were dressed in outfits that Araha blushed at. Each wore a different color. One in red and the other in gold, they left little to the imagination. The tops were cropped higher than the traditional Gerudo garb and had strings of beads hanging down that jangled as they walked. Sheer sleeves flowed down from their shoulders and hung down from their arms, held up only by a single gold band around each wrist. Their skirts were much more to Arasha's liking, they were layered and appeared thick enough. The top layer was the same sheer material as the sleeves, while the underskirt was ornately embroidered. The third woman carried a single large drum and had what looked like another outfit in her arms, in a pale, icy blue.

"Watch." Irasi beckoned.

The woman with the drum began playing a beat that made the princess want to sway back and forth immediately. She did as her elder had bidden her and watched. If she thought she had blushed badly when the women had entered the room, she was wrong. The two Gerudo women moved their hips differently with every beat of the drum. They moved fluidly, swaying their arms and bodies in time with the beat. Arasha was mesmerized at the way they moved. It was beautiful. She began to realise why it was such a closely guarded secret, but then wondered why, as there were no men anywhere in the city. The tempo sped up and the women spun around, their skirts flowing out, away from their bodies. They continued to dance as the beat abruptly slowed and ended. The princess swallowed, she wanted to learn to please her teachers and for her own curiosity, but she didn't think she could ever move like the women before her.

"It's your turn." Irasi said, handing Arasha the blue garment.

She blushed furiously, which caused the other women to laugh, and took it out of the Gerudo's hands.

* * *

Some hours later, Arasha returned to her chambers feeling exhausted but incredibly satisfied. Once she had relaxed and let Irasi guide her, she had picked up on the steps very quickly. Irasi had praised her for how fast she had mastered the simple steps and quickly moved on to more complex movements. She had loved the way she felt when she moved so fluidly. Unable to help herself, Arasha began the dance as she was taught, allowing herself to move to the rhythm that she had heard so many times that day. She fleetingly wondered whether Mandrag had ever seen this dance performed and blushed even as she danced. She wondered what she looked like in her blue ss'ari silks. Arasha closed her eyes and danced, free-spirited and joyful.

Ganondorf felt the seal weaken as she tugged at him with her thoughts. He had come and gone many times in the past few years; he grew tired of his solitude and sought her company as a relief. She was so eager to learn and to share her experiences. He may have been like her if circumstances had been different. He was curious to learn what had made her think of him, it was so close to her birthday. He wondered what couldn't wait.

The tall Gerudo's mouth went dry as he appeared in the princess' chambers. She was dancing. Her eyes were closed as she flowed along to an unheard rhythm. He immediately recognized the ss'ari and realized she had thought of him while doing it.

He eyed the Hylian as if seeing her for the first time. Her hips moved in delicate patterns and the rest of her body followed. Her pale skin was not what he had grown up with seeing, but he found it refreshing as he watched. He chuckled softly, his little prize had grown up before he realized it.

Arasha jumped out of her dance at the familiar sound. Her whole body seemed to flush with embarrassment as she saw him staring at her.

He took a step closer, eyeing her shamelessly from head to toe.

"I- I-" she stammered, trying to find her mind. It had left her far behind as soon as she had seen the Gerudo staring at her like she had never seen before. She didn't know what to liken it to. Her heart pounded as he moved closer. "It isn't proper." she managed to say before she found the man directly in front of her. Goddesses, he was tall. He towered over her full height by two heads at least. She found herself staring at his strong chest. Arasha did not want to look into his smoldering golden eyes, fearing she would get trapped in them.

"Don't be ashamed, little one." He said softly. "Who else would you dance for?"

Her heart skipped a beat. She was suddenly aware of the gaping holes in her knowledge of Gerudo traditions. It seemed as though there were some things that she would never be taught unless she had been born into this culture. Why have such a dance if there were no men of the same race to truly appreciate it? What was it really used for? For all the time she had spent in the desert, she would never know everything she needed to. "Your hair is longer." the princess whispered, breathless as the dark man brought himself down to her level. He hovered there for a moment, letting her eyes seep into his. He slowly leaned in before gently brushing his lips against hers.

Arasha's thoughts flew out the window as his lips neared hers. Her hands found their way to his chest and rested there, half curled in surprise.

Mere moments later, and far too soon in Arasha's mind, the Gerudo pulled back from her. He smiled slightly, amused with something. "Go to sleep, little one."

The princess tried not to pout as she clambered into her bed. "I am not little anymore." she protested softly, he whole body electrified from his brief touch.

He glanced at her before he disappeared. "No, you are not. You will always be _my_ little one."

She shivered at his words, but not out of fear. She was still young, but not so young she could not be married off to some Lord with three other wives and a child or two that outdistanced her in age. Her parents would never do that to her, but she knew she was becoming a woman now. She was already a woman in the eyes of the Gerudo culture.

"Who else would you dance for?" his words rang in her ears, making her heart flutter. She bit her bottom lip, her sister would go back home and marry her Lord Elarn Pralan. Arasha knew she would be expected to find a suitable husband in the next few years or her parents would find one for her. Their country's laws were very strict on marriages into the royal family. She shook her head, perhaps she was overthinking it all. She grinned, they were going home in a few days. She was sad to leave the Gerudos and their beautiful land, but she had not seen her own country in years. She would finally be able to see the winter festival.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh dear. She seems to be growing up rather quickly, doesn't she, and Ganondorf is getting a bit possessive ;) I can't imagine him not, since she's the only other person he's had any contact with since his imprisonment.


	4. The Festival

**Chapter 4 - The Festival**

There were tears from the Hylian royals and the Gerudo women as they said their farewells. Arasha had not expected such an emotional outpouring from the proud warriors, but they had been family. She felt slightly torn as she left. She had felt so at home among the desert people; their lives were not easy, but they were full of life and excitement.

"Do not be ashamed of grief, child." Irasi consoled her. "Follow your heart and you will find your oasis." The elder woman wiped away the princess' tears and pulled her into a strong hug.

Nabooru interrupted gently. "May I speak to you, Arasha?"

The young woman nodded and followed the Gerudo into a nearby tent.

"You have grown so much since you first came to us," she began, "but now I have one last thing to say."

"I listen, Reisa." Arasha replied automatically to her teacher.

Nabooru smiled. "You are a princess of Hyrule again. Do not forget what I have taught you, but remember your own status. What I have to say is from one woman to another. I consider you a dear friend, Arasha."

The princess smiled, unaware that the Gerudo had thought so highly of her.

Nabooru's expression turned serious. "I went to the temple last night to pray for your journey and Din spoke to me of you."

Arasha was suddenly frightened. Why did the Goddess hold an interest in her?

"She bade me to tell you there is a time coming where your life will be very difficult. You must make sacrifices, but not the way you might believe. You are not a child of wisdom or courage, but of power. You have both courage and wisdom, but you are to follow your heart, not your head." Nabooru frowned slightly. "Your mother and I share a common trait in that we both treasure wisdom over passion. I do not pretend to agree with everything Din dictates, there is much I do not agree with, but I will tell you all she said, regardless. In your own way, you are more Gerudo than I." Nabooru confessed. "You have always followed your heart and not your head. Don't let that change, sister. I may believe differently, but for you, it is how you will find where you are supposed to be." She closed her eyes as if recalling something. "You have such a strange path, little one."

"Don't call me that." Arasha said through clenched teeth, surprised at her own vehemence. Only one person called her that.

Nabooru smiled sadly. "I am sorry, sister, that is what he calls you, is that right?"

The princess' heart sped up at the Gerudo's words. "You know?"

"I have known for a long time, Arasha. There is very little that goes on in my Fortress that I do not hear about. I pray you do not get hurt like I think you will, but your path will happen either way. Try not to fight it."

The young woman stared at the bronze-skinned leader with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean?"

Nabooru merely smiled. "Godspeed in your journey, sister. May the Goddesses protect you," she said, then added, almost as an afterthought, "and all of us."

Arasha frowned, wanting to know what the Gerudo was keeping from her, but she knew when she had been dismissed.

"You will understand soon, sister." Nabooru said finally. Her face softened. "I will miss you, Arasha." she said before pulling the young woman into a gentle hug.

Arasha smiled sadly as the caravan left the great fortress in the desert. She watched until it was out of sight and then turned her sights toward home.

* * *

The princess stood on her balcony, looking over the crowd. She was dressed in her gown made especially for the festival; it was white with a few accents of blue and gold. The traditional garb of the princesses of Hyrule. She thought the dress was beautiful, but she missed the light cotton dresses she had worn in the desert. The day was a warm one for the time of year, it was usually snowing during the festival, but there were no clouds in sight. She was grateful for the dress' layers, however, as warm days during a Hylian winter were not very warm at all.

It was a wonderful spectacle. The people were joyfully replaying the events of her parent's exploits to free their kingdom so many years before.

She knew the tales of the evil warlord Ganondorf and how her father and mother had worked to break his grasp on Hyrule, but the citizens had turned the stories into intricately costumed dances which they performed in the town square.

"This is a fine view, sister." Tywin remarked, putting a hand on his youngest sister's shoulder.

"I wish I could be down there with you and Leila, but I must wait until she is married before I can truly attend the festival." she said, an air of regret about her.

Her brother smiled. "It will come soon, Ara." He grinned as he noticed their sister paying more attention to the man at her side than anything else going on around her.

She nodded, and giggled slightly when Tywin pointed down to what he had seen. "It really shan't be long."

"I must return to Father, but do try and enjoy yourself."

"I shall, Ty. I am very excited to finally be able to see it all."

"Good." he said. He turned to leave and looking over his shoulder said, "Try to stay out of trouble, sister."

She grinned at him as he retreated down the stairs. She turned around to watch the festival. She sat, mesmerized by the joyful dances. She loved the dance of the Kokori, they were so childlike and harmonious, but as the evening went on, she decided her favorite dances had been the fire and spirit pieces. They had been so passionate and beautiful. She laughed and gasped with the crowd and even shed a few tears as the evening went on. She eagerly watched as the time came for the climatic ending to the story. Unlike the joyous gasp of the crowd, Arasha's gasp was real. Her heart froze as the mock battle began. She couldn't believe she had never put the two together. How could she have been so blind? She rushed into her chambers, panicking. He was waiting for her.

"You lied to me!" she said angrily.

He remained silent, casually leaning against the stone wall. He surveyed her with slightly narrowed eyes, ignoring her statement. "White it not your color, Princess."

Arasha was taken aback slightly with his casual attitude, but then remembered who he was. "You've only been using me! My people died to keep you locked in that prison."

Again, he said nothing and continued to stare at her with his intense eyes, arms crossed over his chest. The corner of his lip twitched upwards, threatening to become a smirk.

"I— I won't help you anymore." she stated, trembling.

Ganondorf let out a dark chuckle that sent shivers of fear down her spine. He looked down at her, smirking. "It's too late, little one." He said maliciously.

He saw it coming before it happened, the princess darted for the door, but he stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

"Let me go." she demanded, her mind fighting frantically against her heart.

He grinned at the confliction going on within the girl. She was angry, but not truly afraid. She intrigued him, she had fire, but never seemed to use it against him. She amused himwithout irritating him, a feat by its own merit.

"You wouldn't be going back on your promise now, would you, pet?"

Arasha felt tears forming in her eyes. "You are evil." Hot tears slid down her cheeks, why did she feel like it had been her that betrayed him? "That was part of my promise."

"That won't do, little one." Ganondorf said, his tone menacing.

She began to sob, she felt betrayed and, strangely, felt like she was doing something wrong by fighting him.

The Gerudo had a sudden urge to comfort her, he wanted her to trust him; but he could not afford that weakness now. Tossing his emotions aside like he had so often in the past, he roughly grabbed the princess, forcing her to look into his golden eyes. "You will not tell anyone of me, you will aid me when I ask, and you will not dance for anyone else." He set her down gently, but had to support her as she collapsed in his arms. He suspected she had never been exposed to that much influence before. She would be physically unable to go against his wishes. His body strained against the pull of the Sacred Realm. The energy he had expended with those three commands was weakening his presence. He could have done without the last command, but if she was the girl Din had spoken of to him so long ago, he was not about to chance it; this would ensure he had a little extra time. She would be his, and he most certainly did not share.

Arasha jerked awake, unharmed and disoriented. He was gone, and something else had left with him. She placed a hand on her chest, she felt heavy, as if burdened with something, but at the same instant, she felt hollow. There was a cavity in her chest, it gnawed at her like nothing she had ever known. She would not cry for him; she refused to give into her heart, it had only betrayed her. It was that part of her that had left with the warlord; a man she never saw again...

* * *

**A/N:** A little shorter this time, sorry about that. I'll make up for it next chapter =)  
I hope you all are most on top of your Christmas shopping than I am, I still have most of that to do *dies*


	5. The Wedding

**Chapter 5 - The Wedding**

Arasha turned in her beautiful white dress. It sparkled and shone in the light coming through the castle windows. It was her eighteenth birthday and the winter festival. It was also the day she was to marry Prince Arthur Elis of Ordon.

He was a wonderful young man with a good sense of humor and a healthy rule over his lands. Arasha cared for him very much and she knew he loved her. She hesitated to say she loved him as he did her, but she loved him as much as she was able. She could not have chosen a finer man from all the nearby lands; he was kind and generous, with an incredible sense of loyalty. The ache in her soul had never left, but she had learned to live with it.

She was nervous as her mother approached, a wide smile on her face. She fleetingly wished for a storm like the ones that had comforted her so often as a child. That would not do today; nothing would ruin an outdoor wedding quite like a thunderstorm.

"You look beautiful, darling." Queen Zelda exclaimed. She took her daughter's hands in her own. "It is time."

Arasha nodded and followed her mother down the steps to the gardens behind the castle. Her father took her arm and led her out into the sunlight. Her people, old and new, rose to greet her as she walked down the aisle of petals. The royal family's melody played softly as the King walked his daughter to the altar.

The princess looked up at her soon-to-be husband and smiled. He was very handsome in his ceremonial clothing. He beamed back at her and, suddenly, Arasha felt wrong. Her mind frantically told her that this was right. Wisdom before passion, her mother had always told her. Distant memories began to rise up at her thoughts, but she squashed them down before they surfaced. Still, she could not shake the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She refused to think of the man behind her feelings. She could not go back, she would not. This day was supposed to be perfect, and, as Arasha looked around, it was; or so she thought.

In a matter of seconds the sky darkened. Black clouds rolled in and the wind whipped so fast and hard that Arasha's hair flew out of its careful pinning. People screamed and she felt her father tug on her arm to get her out of the open, but she found herself rooted firmly to the spot as she stared up at the increasingly angry sky. Lightning flashed across the sky and down to the ground, starting fires as the rain poured down to put them out again. She thought she heard Arthur's voice calling her, pleading to get under cover, but it was drowned out by the rolling thunder. Tears streamed down the princess' cheeks. Her soul cried out with joy even as her mind wept in fear.

Suddenly, a strong arm grabbed her waist and she felt herself flying through the air. She shut her eyes, praying that it was really happening, but hoping it wasn't. Soon, she found her feet were on solid ground again. Her dress clung to her body, soaked through to the skin.

"I told you were not to dance for anyone." She heard his voice snarl.

Tears streamed down her pale cheeks. "I was getting married." she choked "How dare you take that away from me. You have taken everything else, now my happiness as well." She shivered in her ruined dress, staring down at the floor, refusing to look at the man. She recognized the sound of a fire being lit, but refused to accept the warmth.

His rough snort made her jump. "Your happiness?" Ganondorf mocked her, angry that she did not understand. "He would not have made you happy. You don't love him, you were doing this purely out of duty." he said harshly.

She glared at him, "What do you know of duty? Or love"

"More than you know." he glowered. "What of you, Princess? All duty has done to you is make you as cold as your eyes."

"Am I supposed to warm up to you?" She retorted, a small part of her panging with the knowledge that he was right.

He lowered his tone slightly as he glanced into her broken eyes. "You used to have no problem with me." he said, smirking slightly at the memory of her dancing in the firelight.

"You are a monster." she spat coldly. "I cannot believe I trusted you."

The Gerudo stared at the girl, this was not the same woman he had left two years ago. She was too composed, hating him too perfectly. "What did they do to you, little one?" he asked, his voice suddenly gentle and calm. "They broke your spirit."

Her heart broke at his words, suddenly, she was just a scared little girl again. She tried to keep her composure, the way she had been taught, but her spirit could not stand much longer against his.

He continued to stare at her, his golden eyes no longer as deadly as they had been. His stare was more concerned than anything, and Arasha could not take it anymore. If he really had cared he never would have done what he did.

"You left me!" the girl screamed, allowing her tears to flow freely.

Ganondorf was taken aback. He had never thought she would have gotten so attached. Perhaps it was all by design after all. He was still not convinced, however. She had seemed to hate him, but now she only seemed broken. Had it truly been his fault? He nearly regretted his actions two years ago, but not quite. She would grow and break out of the cage she had put herself in. He longed for her trust again, but would not comfort her. Not yet. He was too careful; he had dared to hope she was his, but had never put faith in anything he could not see. Empty promises from a Goddess that only followed her own whims had never been a comfort. She did not make promises that she did not fulfill, but he did not want to believe her. He set his jaw, this was her chance to prove him wrong.

"I would not have danced for him." the princess whispered, her shaking voice barely audible.

"Prove it." the warlord challenged, immediately irritated that despite the time she had spent in the desert, she did not understand his culture. It was not her fault, it was those blasted women, only giving half-truths and three lies for every real answer given, but he was no less angry with her.

He could see the confliction on her face; she had not completely given in, but she no longer wished to fight.

Arasha's heart skipped a beat, she was unsure of what he wanted her to do.

"Dance for me, little one." he commanded softly.

Arasha watched as her dress was transformed into familiar ss'ari silks of a deep red.

"White was never the color for you." Ganondorf said simply, sitting in a chair next to the roaring fireplace.

The princess was at war with herself. Her mother's ideals and the experience of the past two years screamed at her to use her wisdom and defy him, while her heart pounded and her memories of her childhood told her it was right. Suddenly, the parting words of the Gerudo women came flooding back to her. 'Follow your heart, child. It will lead you to your happiness.' 'Do not let your head rule over your heart. You are a child of power and passion, not of cold logic and knowledge.'

She slowly fingered the soft silk, strangely proud to be wearing them once again, proud of her time in the desert with the Gerudo women. She closed her eyes, trying to hold onto those memories when a drum sounded throughout the space. It's sound reverberated off the walls and she lost herself in the sound. It had been too long since she had truly danced, but the steps came flooding back as she let her body loose for the first time in years.

Ganondorf watched her as she danced. She moved as though she had been stifled, stuck in a cage of reason with no room to spread her wings. There was no lie in the way she moved, and he began to allow the realization to sink in. He had guarded himself for so long, he could not bring himself to trust her completely, but he felt some of his hard built walls starting to crumble.

Arasha fell to her knees, breathing heavily, at the last beat of the drum. She felt liberated. She looked up to see she had fallen at the feet of the dark Gerudo.

He smiled down at her fondly. "Come here, little one." He leaned down and lifted her chin with a finger. He held out a hand and she hesitantly climbed onto his knee.

"How many others?" she whispered, trying not to show her distress.

She was a smart woman. He sighed slightly, she would know if he lied, "Several, but none that I ever cared for." And none that cared for me, either. he thought.

She nodded, her face hidden by her wet hair.

He saw her trembling and realised that she was crying.

"Do — Do you care for me?" the girl asked, her voice barely audible.

Every instinct in him told the warlord to lie; to deny the simple question she had asked. He wanted to tell her that she meant nothing to him, it was safer for him, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Her pale blue eyes stared at him expectantly. "Yes." he confessed, even quieter than her question had been. He felt her let out a breath he didn't know she had been holding.

She looked at him in wonder. "My heart...it isn't empty anymore." she whispered, staring back into his golden eyes. "It was always you." she said softly. "I couldn't have danced for anyone else even if you had let me. Even if I had wanted to." she admitted shyly.

A smile graced his lips, her genuine speech pleased him. It turned out that Din did keep her promises.

Arasha closed her eyes, unused to the proximity between them. His warm hand was wrapped around her waist, holding her firmly, but gently. She could feel the callouses on his hand, she suspected they resulted from an astute knowledge of weapons, though she did not disregard the fact that there were scars among the callouses. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stone floor.

"Lean on me, little one, pretend you are asleep." The Gerudo whispered in her ear with his wonderfully deep voice. Her body tingled at the sound as she laid her head on his shoulder and shut her eyes.

The footsteps grew louder and stopped abruptly when Arasha was sure their maker was standing in front of Ganon. There was a rustling sound and Arasha assumed the newcomer had knelt.

A distinctly male voice spoke in the Gerudo tongue. The princess was frustrated that she couldn't understand what he said. Had it really all been forgotten?  
Ganondorf's chest rumbled as he spoke to the other man in his own tongue. From their tones, Arasha gathered that the soldier was a messenger of some sort, and was delivering the status of something. She had spent enough time in the royal courts to know what that sounded like, even if she couldn't understand. Suddenly, after they had spoken for a time, Ganondorf's grip on her tensed and grew tighter. He spat something at the messenger, using a few choice words that Arasha did recognize, though there were some distinct differences in the sounds; the way he spoke them was strange. She nearly giggled at his use of language, they were words she had learned quickly in the desert, but had never used. She heard footsteps once more, this time retreating rapidly. She looked up at the red-haired warrior as he frowned at the messenger's fading backside. It was easier to really see him when he was not staring back at her. His skin was the same golden brown color as the rest of the Gerudos, she now laughed at the stories the people told when they said he had green skin. Green! His hair was longer than she was used to seeing it, but it was the same fiery red it had always been. His golden eyes were cold and hard, but full of fire all at once. Except when he looked at her; when he gazed at her his eyes seemed to soften and grow more intense at the same time. Her eyes followed his strong jaw line to the silver ring in his ear, next to the ring was a stud of some sort of green stone. She had observed him for long enough to know that there was an identical set on his other ear. He was wearing armor, something she had never seen him in before, but she thought it suited him well. It was black, just like all his fashion choices seemed to be, with a hint of gold embellishing. She knew Gerudos tended to like tattoos, and she wondered if he had any. They were rare among Hylians, but seemed to be the norm in Gerudo culture. His hands were bare, save for a couple of rings on a few fingers.

He noticed her staring at him and chuckled. Arasha blushed furiously and couldn't bear to look him in the eye so she chose his chin instead. She smiled slightly as she noticed the stubble growing on his normally smooth skin. She wanted to touch it. She felt like a child again as she reached up to feel his cheek. She tried to suppress a giggle at his surprised face when the coarse hair rubbed against her fingertips.

Ganondorf could not resist chuckling again, this was the woman he had left, strong when she needed to be, but full of life and wonderment. She was so enamored with everything, it made him see things in a slightly different light.

Arasha inhaled his scent, still pressed against his chest. He smelled like the desert. Spices and the indescribable spell of the desert rain. Somehow, she knew the rain was only for her. He cared for very little, she knew that. He cared about himself, his power, and her. Her eyes widened at the realization that he had given into a weakness; her. The stories had it wrong again, many believed him to be heartless, incapable of caring for anything. She knew better; he cared for her, and she knew he cared for his own people, though he did not show it. They way he talked about his homeland, she could tell he cared.

"Hide me." She whispered against his chest. "I don't want to—I mean."

Ganondorf's smile widened at her words. She had always been perceptive, especially of him. She recognized the danger he was in by having her around. "Don't worry, little one. If it comes to it, I will do what is necessary to keep what is mine."

The way he stressed the end of his sentence made the princess shiver slightly.

"Your mating rituals are so complex." He said suddenly, "They are such a fuss." His forehead creased in distaste.

Arasha's heart hammered. "I — I never truly understood Gerudo traditions."

"I would not expect those women to have told you the truth in any case," He said, his frown deepening slightly before his expression abruptly changed into a slight grin. "They are initiated by the woman. She dances for the man she intends to wed." Arasha blushed as he continued. "If he accepts, much like your own customs, he places a ring on her third finger."

When he did not continue, Arasha asked, "That's it?"

The warlord nodded, his eyes never leaving hers as he slipped a band onto her bare finger. Her eyes widened slightly and she looked down. It was a simple band with two stones in it, one black and one blue. She looked at the red-head nervously.

"I told you once before, Arasha Iarna Dragmire," he said, an air of command in his voice that made her shiver. "you will always be my little one." He tone left no room for argument.

Arasha did not want to argue anyway. In the quiet, her mind finally began processing all the information from the past few hours. She didn't know where she was; she had been ripped away from her country and her family. Stolen from the man she had been in the process of marrying and was now wed to a ruthless warlord who had destroyed more lives than she could count. Conventional wisdom told her she should be distraught, or angry at the very least. Yet, curled in the muscled arms of her husband; the one who was like the desert in so many ways; she found herself happier than she had ever been. "Am I a sinner?" she asked quietly.

"You are asking the wrong man, Ara." The Gerudo replied, no regret in his voice, merely a statement of fact. "Your people value what is reasonable and logical and wise. They value the courage that protects some while discriminating against others. Tell me, is there a Temple of Power in your city?"

"No." The girl said, "I think there may be a statue of Din in the market, but we—the people," she corrected, "only worship Nayru and Farore."

He nodded. "They worship two and ignore the other. They do not understand power and so they lock her away. My people, as you know, follow her ways from birth, it is all we know. Just like the desert, Din does not discriminate. Your people might call her cruel and merciless, mine take her mercies when they come. You may be a sinner in the eyes of your own people, but here among the sands, there are few things that could be considered as such. There is very little that matters here. Power, pain," He paused, pulling his bride more firmly onto his lap, and dropped his voice to a whisper. " and pleasure are what makes up life here in the sands."

Arasha stared up timidly at the warlord, a new feeling of warmth deep in her chest spread down to her fingers and toes as she leaned into his chest. Hesitantly, she leaned up and gently pressed her lips to the Gerudo's strong jawline. His stubble was rough against her skin and she smiled shyly. Ganondorf turned to face her, bringing their lips no more than an inch apart. She inhaled his scent deeply, but her breath was cut short as he pressed his lips to hers. She inhaled sharply and the world seemed to fade. Nothing but the two of them existed. His hand came up to her neck and supported her head. His hands were calloused and rough, but they were so much like the man they belonged to; they seemed hard and cold, but his movements were gentle. He planted several kisses on her lips, each more tantalizing than the last. His mood seemed to change suddenly and before she knew it, Arasha found herself pressed against his chest. She felt him smirk underneath her lips as he kissed her firmly. Thoroughly enjoying himself, he didn't stop even when he heard the footsteps of another soldier approaching.

The brave man cleared his throat as he knelt.

The sudden noise startled Arasha, she moved to turn her head, but Ganon's hand held it firmly in place. She felt one hand leave her body as the Gerudo held it up to indicate he knew the soldier was there and would speak to him when he was ready. He lingered a few more seconds before breaking contact and speaking to the soldier.

Arasha smiled happily against his chest. She felt so wonderfully alive. His touch sparked a fire in her when he began gently caressing her back with his thumb as he spoke. A devilish idea formed in her mind as she stared at the Gerudo's neck. He did not seem to mind delaying report to kiss her, so perhaps he would not mind if...Arasha shifted slightly and slowly pressed a kiss to her king's neck.

The warlord was pleasantly surprised at her boldness, but his face remained indifferent as he spoke to his messenger. He nearly chuckled at the soldier's face when he saw the Hylian Princess voluntarily showering the king with gentle kisses. The man's mouth gaped as he struggled to remember what he had been saying.

The Gerudo no longer cared what the soldier had said, he knew that the news would spread rapidly, and soon the leaders of many clans would beg an audience. They would want to know if the rumors were true, and, once affirmed, would want to back him once again as king. No one would oppose the man who had the daughter of his sworn enemy sitting on his lap, meek and complacent, mere hours after he had kidnapped her. He dismissed the soldier absentmindedly. If he was honest, his military was not large. It had grown considerably from the small force he had started with, but it was still unproven. Next to sheer force, the leaders of the Gerudo tribes respected cunning and manipulation. In their minds, verbal victories triumphed over militial ones. He had only learned this in his later years; the tribe he had been born into; the tribe which gave the Gerudo's their name in the outside lands, was the exception to their culture.

"I thought you were the only male Gerudo." The princess frowned, staring at the soldier's backside as he left.

Ganondorf laughed, "No, Arasha." he said before his rich laughter permeated the room again.

Arasha could not help but smile at the new sound.

His laughter died slowly, but a smile remained on his face as he explained his culture to the princess.

"I was born into the same tribe as the one you are familiar with. I was the lucky one." He said, almost sadly. "My mother was the high priestess, and because of her status, I was allowed to stay."

"Stay?"

"Live." he elaborated. "Before Nabooru's rule, the tribe was much harsher than you know it. Some women would find other homes for their sons, but some would merely let them die." he said through clenched teeth.

"Why?" Arasha asked, horrified that the women could do such a thing. She understood his distaste with the female Gerudo tribe now.

"I don't know where that clan got their ideals from, but Nabooru no longer allows the children to die. Their tribe is designated to deal with the outsiders, the other clans do not wish to have any dealings with those outside the desert. They do not understand our ways, and never will."

"I had seven sisters that I remember, and again as many half siblings." he continued. "It is no legend that Gerudos do tend to have girls far more often than boys. I think I had two half-brothers, one died before I was born and I am not entirely sure what happened to the other. He would be older than me now, if he survived."

"What of you father?" Arasha asked, entranced by the openness he was showing her.

"He was the leader of his tribe and had two wives; normal for a man in his position," he chuckled as her face crinkled with distaste "but he loved my mother. I remember him always asking if she would leave with him, but she would only shake her head and smile at him. He did not come often, but when he did he took some time to spend with me."

"My mother died when I was eleven and I sought out my father's clan. I have never felt more relieved than the day I left my mother's tribe. I did eventually return, but only after I knew they would respect me. Living here is not easy, little one."

Arasha smiled. "No. but it is home." she said softly.

His eyebrows quirked in surprise before he gave her a small smirk. "You don't know where 'home' is, Ara."

"It doesn't matter. My home is with you." She said, shyly at first, but becoming more bold as her sentence ended.

His smirk widened. "There are many who would find that more than disconcerting."

She gave him a knowing smile. "I am sure you would love to see their reactions, wouldn't you?"

"It had crossed my mind, yes. I am sure I will still get the opportunity in the future."

Arasha frowned slightly. "They will come after me."

"No doubt, but I would not worry." He stood gently, allowing her to get to her feet. He gestured toward the open window, it was dark now; Arasha could see nothing but sand and stars.

"Where are we?"

"About sixty leagues west of Nabooru's fortress. The desert it so much larger than you know."

"You will just have to show me." She replied, smiling.

"Indeed I shall, but I'm going to start with the house."

By house he surely meant castle. It did not matter where it was, or that it had been carved out of a cliffside, it was enormous. Arasha was certain she had not seen very much of it at all by the time they arrived in a particularly frightening room. She felt a blush traveling up her cheeks as she realized they had reached his quarters. Our quarters, she thought happily, albeit nervously. She stifled a yawn at the sight of the large bed, not realizing how tired she was. All the excitement of the day began to catch up to her. Had it really been that morning that she had been in Hyrule? It would have been her wedding night. Her eyes traveled to Ganondorf's tall form and she remembered it still was. Not with the man she had expected, but with the one she loved. She was so tired, though.

The Gerudo noticed his wife's sleepy state and smiled slightly. It reminded him of the night she had been soaked from the rain and had nearly fallen asleep standing. She was in much the same state now.

She lifted her arms like a child when he picked up her small frame. Gently, he set her on the large bed. "Sleep, little one." he commanded softly.

Arasha fought to keep her eyes open until she heard his strong voice urging her to sleep. She complied and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

**A/N: Fluuuufffffffffff 33  
A longer one, just like a promised, it's a day late, so sorry about that, but I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! **


	6. The Chosen

**Chapter 6 - The Chosen**

Arasha awoke to light streaming through the windows. She was pressed up against something warm and firm. A heavily muscled bronze arm circled her waist, keeping her close. She gently rolled over to face the sleeping Gerudo at her side. His soft snores made her smile; his face was peaceful, so free of any worries. Her eyes traveled from his sharp features to his frighteningly bare sculpted chest.

The princess blushed as she noticed his lack of shirt. She looked back up at his face and realized how much he trusted her. He allowed himself to be vulnerable in front of her; he had even spoken of his family the previous night. She let her eyes wander back down to his dark chest and lightly traced the jagged edges of the black tattoo markings on his skin. She giggled unintentionally, and was surprised by his voice.

"What is so funny that it couldn't wait until a decent hour?" Ganondorf grumbled sleepily, a hint of grouchiness in his tone.

She hadn't thought about what time it was; she had always woken up early, it was becoming clear that her husband was not an early riser.

"Nothing." She blushed, burying her flushed face into what was available, which happened to be his strong chest.

He grunted. He would never get back to sleep if she continued to shift in his arms. He felt her hot breath on his skin and quickly surmised what had brought on her blush and her giggling. He grinned, all previous irritation rapidly disappearing; if he had to be up this early, he was going to get something out of it.

Arasha gasped when she found herself pressed tightly against the warlord's muscled torso. She stared up at her husband with wide eyes before his lips crashed into hers.

* * *

Ganondorf gazed at the pale, naked form of his sleeping wife as he dressed. She was beautiful. Her light skin was an oddity to him; he had known and seen many Hylians throughout his life, but never knew their tones could reach such a level of purity. Now that he looked at her slight frame, he was shocked that she had not shattered like a piece of glass; she appeared an incredibly delicate woman, though he knew she was not completely as her appearance suggested. She reminded him of the porcelain dolls that he saw on the merchants' wagons during the spring caravans. There were few who were brave and foolhardy enough to venture into the wastes, and fewer still who could deal with the Gerudo tribes. The traders that were allowed in were only given a small space of time to sell before leaving once more, and both the caravans and the Gerudos thrived through their arrangement, while it lasted. That trade had ceased many years ago, during the famine that drove him to do the unthinkable in the eyes of his people; seeking aid for his people outside of the desert. They were a proud people, honor was something taught from the cradle, and venturing out of the country for foreign aid was deeply shameful for both the leader and the rest of the culture. There were many that would have rather died than ask the Hylians for help, and, in the end, that had been the result regardless. Only once before had the resolute desert tribes been desperate enough to seek aid from the people of the water lands, and, though the monarchy had been vastly different from what it had been even forty years ago, it had not changed enough.

Throughout all of history, the only truly beneficial relations between Hylians and Gerudos had occurred just the night before. Unfortunately, only the Gerudos would see the positive side of things. No matter what move he made, the Hylians would never accept their princess's marriage. He had thought more than once about supplanting the current monarchy and placing his wife in the role as queen. She would rule her people and perhaps, with time, persuade them to let go of their biases. In a perfect world, perhaps.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that the world was far from perfect. In truth, he did not wish it to be perfect either. Chaos was part of everything, no matter the wishes and beliefs of others; power had a part to play in all roles. He was not the only one with power, and he knew that truth acutely. There could be no mistakes this time, a single slip could cause the both of them to be drowned in the sands of the Hylian's judicial ideals.

No. The desert was the place for him, at least for the present. There may be a time to expand, but that day might never arrive. He grit his teeth slightly, if the Hylians gave him a reason, he would take it, much like his ancestors had. He doubted the animosity between their cultures would ever change, and he had no mind to even being to try.

He gave his young Hylian another wistful glance, almost wishing that her ancestors had chosen differently. Hyrule had never been a welcoming place for the desert people, and neither had the Gerudos wished to partake in anything they had to offer. He recalled the tales of glory he had been told by his father as a child. Not so very long ago, there was a time when the Gerudo tribes were powerful enough to strike out against the treachery of the water lands. He knew his father had told him what treason they were accused of, but could not remember it any longer. History was so important to his culture, he was surprised to find things would slip through his mind. He would pay a visit to the archives today, the residing preistess would fill in the gaps.

Ganondorf knew it was only a matter of time before his queen would ask him why he hated her people so much, and, for a reason he had not quite figured out, wanted to be able to thoroughly explain himself. He was not a wasteful man in the least, and would not do anything to compromise the trust he had managed to build back up in such a short amount of time. It irritated him slightly; how much he truly cared for his young wife. He could not afford the weakness or the distraction, but neither could he deny what was so readily presented to him. He had vowed never to love again, and he stood to that. He may allow himself to care, but never to love like he had in the past. Love was vulnerable. He could not be vulnerable.

He took one last look at his wife as he buckled on his vambraces. He admitted to himself that he would have rather been in bed, sleeping just as soundly next to her, but he had many duties to attend to. He gently covered her body with a soft bed sheet and ran a hand gently down her face before leaving her to rest.

* * *

Hyrule Castle was a frenzied mess as the sun rose. Not even the Cook had slept that night. Servants bustled restlessly through the halls, doing and redoing tasks with no real results, no one willing to sleep until the fair monarchs had calmed enough to rest themselves.

"We have to go after them!" Arthur's voice rang through the eerily silent stone halls.

"I agree, but we don't even know where he took her." Tywin remarked. Despite his sharp attitude toward the younger man, he admired his determination and loyal spirit.

The men had been debating all night on what to do and how to go about rescuing the stolen princess, with very few results.

Zelda, however, had spent the night in the library, trying to find some sort of answer in the past. She would get her daughter back, but she believed history would show her the answers she sought. How had Ganondorf escaped? She had nearly given up when the morning sun streamed through a small window, lighting a pile of books near the wooden table the Queen had been working at. She squinted at the stack, and recognized the worn spine of an ancient book whose title had long been erased through use. She knew this book, however, it had guided her through her trials when Ganondorf had originally risen to power, perhaps it would be of aid again. It was the best thought she had so far.  
She pored over the pages, praying the answers would come to her. She read slowly, exhaustion finally taking a toll, she was not as young as she once was. One particular phrase jumped out at her multiple times.

"Chosen champion." She muttered aloud. It had to do with the triforce somehow. Zelda rubbed her head, trying to think clearly. Chosen. The triforce had chosen them? No, it obeyed whoever possessed it...The Goddesses. Her forehead creased into a heavy frown, both she and her husband had been favored by the Goddesses of wisdom and courage...

Zelda's head snapped up. That meant that Ganondorf had also been given his power, he hadn't stolen it or gained it through some horrendous means. If she was right, Din had chosen the dark man to carry her power. She suddenly felt sick to her stomach, she was not sure which was a worse tale to believe. She put her head in her hands, stray tears falling into her lap. How did any of this truly aid in finding her daughter?

"You are right, my champion." Zelda heard a familiar voice say. She couldn't say where she had heard it from before, but she knew it somehow.

A pale blue light wafted through the library and a tall, beautiful woman wrapped in deep blue silk appeared in the light.

"Nayru." Zelda breathed, too exhausted to think straight. "What do I do? How did he escape?"

"My sister was angry that we locked her champion away, she loosened the bond between worlds for long enough that he could make a connection and eventually free himself." The Goddess explained softly.

"Arasha..." Zelda whispered. "There was something wrong the night she was born. We had been so far removed from the horrors of years before I did not even think of how dangerous it could have been. There were no physical effects. He used her to escape..."

Nayru nodded silently.

"Why would she not say anything?" Zelda mumbled worriedly. "Surely as she got older she would have realized what he was doing."

"He would not have let her, child. You know as well as I that he is a keen manipulator. Whether he threatened her, used some form of magic, or she went along willingly, it does not matter until you can find them. Where would he go that is safe? Both for him and your youngest daughter? He is still not as powerful as he once was. Take heart. There will be happiness at the end, as long as you are willing to accept it."

The Goddess faded, the blue light fading quickly.

Zelda frowned at Nayru's words. Her daughter would not have gone willingly, she must have known who he was from nearly the beginning. She had taken care to have her children educated in their country's history. He had to have coerced her somehow. Where would he have taken her? Somewhere safe...

Zelda quickly made her way to the King's study and council room. She knew her husband and the Princes were still arguing.

"The Desert!" she exclaimed as she burst into the room.

The men in the room were immediately silenced at the Queen's abrupt entrance.

"What was that, my dear?" Link said, his voice strained from the lack of sleep.

"Ganon was from the desert, it is the only place he could go." she repeated.

"Are you certain? Nabooru would not keep such information from me."

"She may not even know, father." Tywin spoke up. "She was not as forthcoming as she could be. There are so many inconsistencies in the way the Gerudo's live. They say there are no males, but if their children were half-Hylian, as they claim, then they would not be so similar. Every child, without exception, is born with red hair and brown skin.  
The King nodded thoughtfully. "I will send a messenger, to warn her of our arrival. We will leave tomorrow at first light."

The Prince of Ordon opened his mouth to argue, but was cut-off.

"I admire your zeal, your highness, but the army will not be prepared until then, and we must all get some rest. If it does come down to a battle, even you will not last like this."

The younger man nodded stiffly, recognizing the King's wisdom.

"I will send word to Leila; perhaps her husband will be able to assist us." Zelda remarked.

Link gave her a stern gaze.

"And then I shall rest." she promised.

* * *

**A/N: It's been a few weeks, but here's yet another installment =) Enjoy ^.^**


	7. The Princess in the Tower

**Chapter 7 – The Princess in the Tower**

Arasha opened her eyes for the second time that morning and rolled over to find she was alone. She smiled slightly, content in her situation, and wrapped the sheet around her body as she stood. Her bare feet hit the cold stone floor; it surprised her that it sustained its cold temperature despite the desert heat she knew was just outside.

Glancing around the grand room, Arasha noticed several doorways leading to other parts of the chambers. One led to a balcony, which she would have to look from later. She assumed the one on the far wall was some sort of wardrobe room. The last one was what she had been hoping for: a bathroom. She smiled at the large stone pool and the two levers that sent water up the pipes and into the basin. They had water and plumbing. She started the water, checking to make sure she had turned on the hot water and not the cold. She absently wondered how they got so much water in the barren desert. They must place their cities over water sources. The tub soon filled with water, steaming up the glass window panes in the small room. Arasha slipped out of the sheet before easing her slightly sore body into the water. The heat relieved the ache from her muscles as she washed her hair. It really was lovely.

Slowly, the water began to cool. The windows no longer held their cloudy appearance from the heat of the water.

"What am I to wear?" Arasha thought out-loud as she stepped up out of the stone pool. She grabbed a soft towel to wrap around her body before returning to the bedroom. She walked into what she hoped was the wardrobe and laughed. Black; of course. There was an occasional red, and even a few white shirts among the darker colors, but they were few and far between. Over half the space was empty and she imagined it filled with her own clothes, but for now, they remained empty. She frowned at the inoffensive space before returning to the shelves that did have garments upon them. She ran her fingers through the fabrics. Most were cotton or some sort of light fabric that was obviously made for the desert heat, but her touch reached a small row of cool, silky shirts. She wondered if Ganondorf had ever worn them. They did not seem practical for use in the desert; silk clung horribly to the body when it got even a little damp. Perhaps he had during his occupation of her own country, but she still could not see it. It seemed to her that he would never be in a position to dress in anything that was not practical for either heat or battle.

With a small smile, she carefully removed one of the red cotton shirts and slipped it over her head. He always seemed to like her in red. She giggled slightly as it fell to her thighs, it would do for now. It reminded her of when she was a small child and would play with her father's shirts; but she was no longer a child. She was the wife of a warlord and Princess of her own realm. She would never have any true power in Hyrule; that would eventually belong to her brother. She was slightly concerned about Ganon's feelings toward her country. He hated her mother and father, it was more than obvious to her; but she wondered why he had taken the kingdom in the first place. He never did anything without a reason and greed was not a motivator she had seen him use. Revenge she knew he was practiced at, however. What had her Grandfather done to earn the Gerudo's wrath?

The stories differed in many respects, but one thing they agreed on was that it was Ganondorf's lust for power that had caused him to attack Hyrule. The princess was beginning to doubt that branch of reasoning, especially as she spent more time with the man. Power was important in the desert, if you did not have power you were weak, and the weak were slaves. Or something like slaves; the Gerudo tribes fought amongst themselves often and the losing clan's warriors were subjected to a year and a half of servitude. She did not know much beyond that, it all seemed to be part of an honor system; the one her instructors had chosen not to teach her during her education in Nabooru's tribe. There was quite a bit she had not been told during that time; she knew that now.

From the little she understood, Arasha knew that the wife, or wives in some cases, of a tribal leader had no real commanding power, other than the influence she had over her husband. She commanded respect and still ruled over whatever warriors she may have had before marriage, but the men were always the leaders in name. It was freeing, never truly having to worry about the people. She knew that the more she learned, the more she would become involved in the workings of the desert people, but for now, it was enough to just be herself.

Arasha wanted to explore the house, but was hesitant with her current attire. Ganon had called it a house, not a fortress, but she doubted she was alone in the large dwelling. A Gerudo's meaning for house could be very different from what she thought about a home. The Gerudo women had houses similar to the Hylians, but it seemed those women were far from the norm in Gerudo society. Her gaze traveled to the clear glass panes in the walls, overlooking the sands. There was some sort of market directly below, before the sandstone gave way to soft desert sand. She assumed that the rest of the people were in dwellings like this one; built into the side of the rock face. The desert was beautiful; huge birds flew overhead, sometimes in a flock, sometimes without one. It was not quite midday, she thought, by the sun and the few people who were out in the street below. The market had been busy earlier in the morning, she could hear the bustle of the people as she was bathing, but it had died down as the sun had begun to warm the sands. She smiled at the view before deciding to look around the house she was in, wondering if the Gerudo had a library. She did not read as often as her mother wished her to, but she was in no state to go out of the building, so she elected to stay in and find something to do indoors. Reading was as good as any pastime.

Her bare feet made little noise on the sandstone floors as Arasha wandered through the halls. She jumped at the sound of footsteps, but it would only turn out to be a servant on some sort of errand. They kept their gazes firmly on the floor in front of them, never raising their eyes to her. She wondered how many of them were honor bound to serve for their year and a half, and how long they had left. She frowned, the Gerudo were a strange people to have this as part of their societal ideals.

The princess recognized very little as she walked cautiously through the stone hallways, hoping she would not run into a warrior or anyone other than a servant. She felt exposed in her current dress, and did not wish for anyone to see her, but neither did she want to sit idly by, waiting for someone to tell her what to do; that had never been something she had been good at, or even inclined to do.

She passed by many closed doors, not wishing to open them and disturb the occupants, if there were any. In truth, there were few doors in the house at all; most rooms were blocked by curtains and beads. Everything was new to her, and she felt as though she was imposing, not wandering her own house. She had never had any trouble at home, but she was not quite at home in this place yet. It was all very foreign to her. It would become home very quickly, but until then, caution was the road to take.

Arasha was not entirely sure how she stumbled upon it, but not long after she left the bedroom, she arrived at a flight of spiral stairs. Unable to satiate her curiosity, she began to climb the tower. It was quite tall; tall enough to rival some of the towers in the castle she had grown up in. She could feel the heat increasing as she climbed, and recognized the smell of the hot desert sand. A smile broke out on her face as she ascended into the desert air, breathless from the climb. There was no hindrance to her view from the top of this tower. Above the cliff on every side, the wide structure was railed and roofed, providing shelter from the sun and much of the wind. She quickly walked to the rails on the west side of the tower, nothing but sand was stretched out before her, in the distance, she thought she could see rock formations of some sort, but they were too far away to tell for sure. It was the same to the north; noting but rolling dunes. To the east she could see Death Mountain's figure rising in the distance, not large, but clearly visible. Harsh, windblown mountains separated the desert from the fiery volcano, but not before the cracked desert land could make itself known. Between the stone outcroppings this town was placed among and the jagged mountains laid a plain of hard, cracked, uneven ground. It reminded her of how the occasional summer rain would create puddles in castle town and a heat would dry them before all the mud was tracked away, leaving it cracked and parched for water. She wondered if it had once been a lake bed, or a river.

It was hot. She had forgotten how hot and dry it was here. Even so, she was in the shade, and she couldn't bring herself to leave the view just yet, and the wind blowing past gave enough movement to make the heat bearable, at least for the moment. She leaned on the rail, taking in the sight of her new home.

* * *

"Taril. Where did my wife head off to?" Ganondorf directed the question to a servant as he arrived from his short trip to the archives.

"She had gone up to the tower last I heard, milord." The man said, never taking his eyes off his work.

A small smile on his face, he head towards the tall tower staircase. His grin broadened slightly when he saw her looking out on the land, uncaring of the heat or wind. "What would your mother think if she saw you wandering about wearing so…little?" He chuckled as she jumped at his sudden appearance; she tended to get lost in whatever she was thinking about at the time. She was not hard to sneak up on, which concerned him to a degree. They were not at war now, but it was never far off in the desert lands.

Arasha smiled at him as he walked up to her and placed a hand on her back. She leaned onto his chest. "If my husband would provide me with my own wardrobe, it would not be an issue." She smiled sweetly; a little too sweetly. She was learning his game quickly.

Ganondorf smirked at her new, teasing attitude. "It is no advantage to me to do so. I may just postpone it longer." he said, taking in the sight of her.

A small pout appeared on her pink lips, causing him to chuckle again. "I cannot walk around naked, Ganon." she protested.

"You will do what I say, dear." he quipped back, kissing her pouting lips.

She frowned at him. He could tell it was taking a great deal of effort for her to retain the pose. He could see the edge of a smile creeping in to her features. He stood patiently, waiting for her retort.

Arasha was tempted to curtsey to make fun of her husband, but she was not sure how he would react to that.

Ganon watched as her face went from frowning confidently back to shy uncertainty. He took a deep breath, letting it out silently. Small steps. Eventually she would truly stand by his side as his queen, but now was not then. She was not ready to lead, and he was not in a position politically to have her do so. Admittedly, he was very reluctant to allow her any power as his wife at all. He had been too closely guarded for too long to let his wall be broken now, but he could feel it happening. He had once gone against the whims of the Goddess, and he had been as good as dead after that excursion. As much as his calculating mind fought against the idea of opening up to the young Hylian, it had to be done. Slowly, but surely, she was creeping in. Of course, he had dragged her, nearly kicking and screaming to begin with, but she was incredibly comfortable with him already. On one hand, he enjoyed not being utterly feared for once in a long while, but on the other, fear was a tool he was so used to manipulating, it was not a comfortable scenario to be without that power. He was not a wasteful man, however, and would not jeopardize the trust that had been built again so readily because he was afraid of what this girl could do. If it ever came down to it, she could not stand up to him, just as it had happened in the past. He elected not to concern himself with it any longer.

He had always been one to enjoy himself, no matter the circumstances, and now would be no different. He brought the Hylian close to him and kissed her. She sighed and once again leaned on his strong chest. They stood, looking out over the desert, he truly enjoying her company in the silence.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry it's a bit late. We were excavating the front yard this weekend, so I had very little time to write. More fluff and less plot this time, but there is plot to come! =)


	8. The Trouble in the Tower

**Chapter 8 - The Trouble in the Tower**

Heated wind careened fiercely across the vast expanse of the desert, blowing the coarse dry sand into whatever surface it wished. Few areas were exempt from the harsh winds and the eroded rock that followed in its wake. One such area lay far above the desert floor, built into the side of a mountain. A city, carved into the very rock lay in tiers, trailing from the base of a large canyon wall and continuing up the cliff-side. At the top of the cliff, towers jutted out of the rock, far above the sands. Most of the towers were empty, save for a few posted guards. The center tower, however, the largest one directly attached to the chief's house, though normally empty, was occupied by not one, but two beings.

Many who looked up at the tower knew the shape of the warlord and uncrowned king of the Gerudos, no matter the distance, but the other silhouette, the small one, was the matter of discussion in the market. Some said that their chief had finally taken a wife. Others swore she was his prisoner, a foreign royal, no more than a pet and a plaything; for those who knew what he had done in Hyrule so many years before, this was the most likely scenario, and thus believed it. Few knew the truth of the couple so high above them in the tower. Those who did would not speak of it to many. Information was sensitive; it was desired. Rumors meant nothing, but a price was put on all information, and this was worth much to the leaders of the other clans. The rumors, if the people combined them, would hit closer to the truth than they knew. The girl was indeed a foreign royal, but far from a prisoner as well; while she was certainly wrapped quite tightly around the Gerudo warlord's finger, he also seemed to enjoy her presence. The rumors circulated quickly throughout the city and began to spread to the rest of the desert.

Up on the top of the tower, Arasha was content, unaware of the rumors and bustle of the marketplace below, her husband's arms wrapped around her.

It did not last long, however. Suddenly, Ganondorf's grip tightened severely, almost to the point of pain. She braved a glance at the Gerudo's face and wished she hadn't. His expression had darkened; it was obvious his mind was elsewhere, though she did not know what it was that was troubling him. Her face fell; she wished she had the ability to make him happy. The woman her people had raised her to be was not the woman that he needed, or the woman he wanted. She had to put aside what she had been taught and truly just be herself, confident and strong, but never enough to threaten him. He was still unsecure in this current power structure, and Arasha knew that would not change any time soon, if ever. In Hyrule, a king was king until he died. The Gerudos were much harsher about their leadership, and were a culture built around power and war. The clans fought each other more often than they fought the people from the 'water lands'. No, she was not entirely sure what he really needed.

Resolute, Arasha straightened against his strong arms. She opened her mouth to assure him of her unwavering choice, but did not get the chance.

"Will you stand again me too, little one?" he snarled quietly.

Slightly startled at his words, Arasha stammered, "N–No."

His eyes flashed and he glared at the Hylian, pushing her away roughly.

Arasha staggered at his force, tears forming in her eyes. She forced them down and swallowed a sob.

Angry at herself, she diverted her gaze to the stone floor. She had known exactly who he was when she had married him. She knew what he had done to her mother's country and how he had treated the peoples that lived there. She knew that he was much more than the affection that he bestowed upon her. Even that surpassed her wildest expectations. She had been glad when he first brought her into his arms voluntarily. She remembered growing up that he did not like being touched at all. She did it anyway, but only when she thought she could get away with it, and—that morning and the night before… But he was Ganondorf; he was neither soft nor kind. While she was an exception, Arasha knew she was not exempt from his temperament. She was angry for letting herself forget.

She was afraid of him, as she should be, and as he liked it, but she loved him anyway. She knew she could not have one side without the other, and she loved both. He was her dark stranger, _her _ruthless warlord, and she would not have it any other way.

Steadier, she knelt, her gaze remaining downcast.

"My lord husband," she began meekly, using her own country's formal titles, trying not to cringe at her lack of knowledge of his language. "I would not be apart from you. There is nothing on this earth that would cause me to stand against you."

He snorted softly, "Your words had best ring true for your sake, laashka." He threatened. His cool steady tone was making her more afraid than when he had yelled at her the day before. "Leave." he said coldly, walking past her kneeling form.

Knowing better than to disobey, the young woman quietly got to her feet and started towards the stairs once more cursing her ignorance of the Gerudo language.

"Wait."

She responded immediately to his command, stopping dead in her tracks.

"Come here, pet." He said. It was almost a gentle command, but Arasha recognized the cold amusement in his voice, and knew he was still angry.

Arasha turned and walked up to him, her head still bowed, partly in submission and partly in fear.

"You were wrong earlier." He said, smirking. "You _can_ walk around naked."

Her head flew up and Arasha met his fiery eyes with a glare of her own. He wouldn't. She pressed her lips together and frowned.

Amused with her defiance, Ganon held his hand out, mischief glittering in his hard, golden eyes.

Arasha snorted, her fear gone, and slowly began unlacing the top of the shirt she had taken from his closet earlier that day. She tried not to smile as she watched her husband's gaze travel from her face down to her fingers. She was tempted to push her limits, but thought the better of it. He was not in the mood for any antics of the sort.

She stripped his shirt off her body and placed it in his outstretched hand. Her eyes stared at his defiantly and she placed her hands on her hips, trying to pretend that she was not wearing only her skin. If she was honest, she wanted to run and cover herself, even though she knew he had seen her body before. She shivered under his gaze.

Ganondorf smirked, eyeing the Hylian's pale form much more shamelessly than she was portraying it. "Isn't that better? Your body is so unused to this heat."

Arasha swallowed, wary that his tone had changed yet again. It was easy to tell what he wanted when he was obviously angry, but she was no longer sure of his mood. "It–It is not the heat from the sun that I am concerned with."

"Then tell me, laashka," he began, running his calloused hands down her bare sides, "What heat do you fear if not the sun?"

There was that word again. She was far too proud to ask him what it meant, but it made her even more determined to learn his native tongue. She wanted to answer, but could not seem to find her own language to respond with. She melted against the warlord's large frame at his touch, his armor surprisingly cool against her bare skin.

Decided that he was no longer angry with her, she whispered, "Yours."

He smirked again. "Why is that, Ara?"

She shrugged beneath his arms. "I don't want to do something wrong." She mumbled, almost incoherently; hardly realizing she had spoken at all, so consumed as she was by his hold on her. "I love you." She said finally, resting against him.

* * *

Ganondorf stiffened at her words. He had known she loved him, but those words threatened to tear town his carefully constructed walls. Walls that he hastily threw back into place.

He cared for her; she was perhaps the only person he truly cared for. It was true, he cared for the well-being of his own people, but that was closer to a survival instinct than any heartfelt sentiment. If regret was something he could feel, he would have felt sorry for scaring her, but his heart was as calloused as his hands, if not more. He would remain attentive and gentle, for the most part, but was not going to give her more. She was willingly giving him more power over her, and knew that he would never do the same.

He understood her; he had loved his mother and his sisters, but they had all been ripped away from him. He vowed that day to never again fall into that trap.

He let out a quiet growl as he held his small Hylian wife. He would care for her, he would be happy with her, he might even go so far as to trust her, but he would never love her. He would not allow himself that consideration. She belonged to him, but he would never be owned by her. Never.

Ganondorf felt Arasha tremble in his arms and heard a small sob leave her lips. Concerned that he was hurting her, he loosened his grip. She looked so fragile; he was baffled that her small, pale frame could endure his strength.

She looked up at him as tears streamed down her face. Her lip trembled. "I missed you." She wailed quietly, flinging herself back into his arms.

Ganon caught her, surprised. He had been angry with her mere minutes before and here she was. Hylian women were strange creatures, but more than that, _his _Hylian woman was a strange creature. She was nothing at all like her mother; in fact, she seemed to him that she was the exact opposite. Zelda had not needed anyone, he was sure that if Link had not come along then the stubborn princess would have found a way to destroy him herself, but Arasha– She seemed to be unwilling to even survive without him. He had been raised almost exclusively by women, but this young woman was unlike anything he had every encountered.

"I know." He replied quietly. He had desired her, both in body and her company, in those two years she had been away from him. His grip tightened around her snugly as he remembered the scene of her almost wedding. They would come for her, and when they did he would make sure they knew who it was that held their princess' allegiance, and then they would die.

"That…princeling you were going to marry–" he began, distaste plain on his face.

Arasha reigned in her sobs to let out a snort. "It's only ever been you. I never–"

"I know. Your...prince…I am going to kill him."

* * *

Arasha nodded thoughtfully. "He was never mine, Ganon. He–" She looked up suddenly, her eyes wide. "He started this war, not you."

The Gerudo smirked, raising an eyebrow, "It has escalated to war already?"

"According to Hylian law, yes." She frowned, trying to remember her lessons. "I was never to be queen of my own country, but I had to know the laws of war regardless. They are much the same throughout all the nearby lands. There are many reasons under which war is justified, one is when a ruler or noble from one land marries, or tries to marry a woman who is promised to another, of course, this only applies to the royal family and a few nobles of the court. It does not happen often, but the laws are in place for a reason, I suppose. It is seen as a betrayal of trust, and is a pretense for war.

"I am not subject to your laws, little one."

"Nor am I, but there's more."

He nearly grinned at her denials of her home country, but remained silent.

"When…" Arasha swallowed, thinking back to a particular evening in the desert. "When I – danced for you that night, I promised myself to you, though I did not know it. I did not understand the significance, but you, under your customs, could have married me then." She blushed as she thought back to the event. "Instead, you neither rejected nor accepted me, leaving me to wait for your answer. Ar–Arthur, by his laws, has given you full reason to go to war by trying to marry me." She hesitated, and then finished with "So, by both his laws and o–ur customs, you are right to kill him."

"That may very well be, but I am not going to kill him because any custom dictates it to be excusable." Ganondorf growled softly. "I am going to kill him because he had the audacity to think he could take you from me. I am going to kill him because his ancestors were cruel to mine; but mostly, I am going to kill him because I feel like it."

"I know." Arasha kissed her husband's knuckles softly. "I don't care. I care that my father does not make the same mistakes that my grandfather did, whatever they may have been. I care about our people; I will not let them suffer for any Hylian king. And I care about you; I do not want my father to take you away from me. I will–I will do what I must." She stumbled over her last sentence, unwilling to voice what she would do if she had to.

Ganondorf replied with a chuckle. "You need not worry laashka. _I _will not allow our people to suffer again. Your father will not take you from me. Neither will your brother or anyone else they send my way. You are mine, Arasha." He said possessively before unwinding his arms from her frame and eyeing her naked form a second time.

He turned back toward the sands. "I, however, have things to do before then, and they must be done."

Arasha recognized his dismissal and turned to climb back down the stairs. She hesitated, not wanting to walk around without clothes for the remainder of the day. He noticed her reluctance immediately.

"Do not test my patience, woman. It has limits, even for you." He snarled.

Arasha quickly turned down the steps and climbed back down to the main house, not hearing Ganondorf quietly chuckling as she left. She really would do anything for him. It was refreshing; her willingness to comply with his whims. A Gerudo woman would not have given in so easily, but she was also not as fearful as the women from her own culture. She stared at him in defiance when others would have shrunk in fear. Perhaps she did have some of her mother in her…just enough to be useful, but not so much that she turned against him.

* * *

Arasha let out a laugh as she reached the bottom, unaware that the Gerudo had done something very similar. He husband could be more moody than she was; which was quite a feat. She frowned suddenly, hoping it would not be constant. Perhaps he was just used to being by himself. Of course he was, there was no one else with him for over twenty years…except for her. She felt like crying for him; it must have been awful. Arasha had a sudden urge to run straight back up the stairs to comfort him, but she knew it would only upset him more. She sighed, resigned to save it for later, and went off on her original search to find a library.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh dear, Ganon's a bit grumpy today, but it seems our princess is a bit moody herself. What will happen next, and will Arasha find a way to overcome the barrier of language and culture? What do you think?

Cheers. -Sia.


	9. The Tension Rises

**Chapter 9 – The Tension Rises **

Ganondorf snarled quietly to himself as he stalked out of the large meeting hall. The older clan chiefs; the ones who remembered, were behind his claim to the Gerudo throne, but there were still some who refused him the right. Young men; too new to leadership to know what he had done. Some had not yet left their mothers' sides at the time he has risen to power. He needed to remind them of his power, but without destroying them. He could not afford to appoint new leaders, not with the war he knew was coming quickly to their lands. Young as they were, these men were in their positions for a reason, and he knew he would have need to them before the end. The clans would be better united against the might of the Hylian army.

Nabooru and the rest of her tribe would side with the Hylians, he was certain of it. Whether out of pity or because they truly cared for the water lander's causes, he did not care. It was of little consequence either way; the true Gerudo clans would not hesitate to destroy the odd tribe of women in battle. Many a chief had looked for an excuse to destroy the matriarchal society, and none had arisen until now. Siding with those who had oppressed them so long ago, and continued to do so, would turn the tide in Ganondorf's favor, instead of the Hylian army. He had every advantage. Many would die in the desert before they reached his fortifications, even with Nabooru's aid. He could decide a field of engagement beforehand, choosing the best tactical strike point. Though they were hesitant at the moment, the clans would unite behind him, if only for the single battle with the Hylian forces. Yet still, he was apprehensive about the coming fight.

Perhaps it was from the built up tension of facing the Hylian monarchs once again. He pinched the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth. He had been so sure of his victory then, but he had been too arrogant. He could not defeat them together; apart had been simple, easy, even; but it had been all over once he let his guard down on the princess. He should have killed her the moment he had her in his grasp. He chuckled darkly, had he done that, he would not be in this situation. His thoughts flashed to Arasha and he frowned. The idea of her not being here bothered him far more than he cared it to.

"You still do not believe, young warlord."

He snorted suddenly, recognizing Din's presence in the room. "I believe what I see, and I am far from young." he growled, irritated.

"In mind perhaps, but not in years." The goddess said, almost soothingly.

"What do you want?" he snarled, turning his gaze to the fiery, glowing woman just in time to see her vanish with a small laugh.

"I do not lie, Dragmire." Her voice faded, hanging in the air like an ominous cloud.

He growled out a string of curses before stalking down to the training grounds, refusing to think of the time she had visited him as a child. He had sat through far too much politics that day; he flexed his hand, relishing the thought of a good sparring with another warrior. He would win; he always did, but he would enjoy the sport nonetheless.

* * *

Amidst the stacks and shelves of the house library, with scrolls and ancient texts overflowing onto the stone floor, Arasha sat on a pile of cushions reading one of the few books she had found in her own language. The room had been quiet when she found it, and had remained that way for some time, so she had relaxed slightly. She no longer jumped to cover herself at every rustle of paper, but she was still wary. She let out a laugh; her mother would not know what to do with her in this state. Naked in the library! Her tutors would have fallen over in disbelief. She was not confined to walking around without a stitch on by choice, of course, but it was not as bad as she had envisioned. The house was quiet; she had not even seen a servant since the morning.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she had not eaten since the day before. She ignored it; she could live without food for a day. Even if she had been brave enough to go to the kitchen for food, she had no idea where it was, and knew that it would be filled with the servants that she hadn't seen all day. She had no wish to have them all see her pale form being so exposed. Hylian servants were notorious gossips, and though she had a feeling Gerudo were much more closed-mouthed than her people, she did not want to chance it; not to mention the sheer embarrassment of the whole thing.

"My lady."

Arasha jumped at the sudden voice. She dropped the book she had been reading and her hands flew up to cover her breasts. Her cheeks were flaming and she knew she was as red as she felt. She wanted to close her eyes and pretend she was somewhere else. Instead she let out a shaky "Yes?"

"I bring your middle-day meal." The Gerudo said as she walked into the room.

Arasha let out a sigh of relief; at least it was another woman. "Thank you." She said, steadier. She did not recognize the woman, but she had not been in the house long enough to recognize more than a small handful of servants.

"Tanachti told me I must help Sebani." The woman said, her jaw clenched in irritation, as she placed her tray beside the confused princess.

Arasha realized that the woman did not speak Hylian very well and was trying to use as few words from her own language as she could. The blonde woman took a deep breath, the Gerudo was obviously a very proud woman, and would not at all like the fact that Arasha did not know her language at all. She had at one point, but the way they spoke here was vastly different than what she remembered learning with Nabooru. Proud or not, she was going to take this opportunity to learn something. She pointed to herself and questioned, "Sebani?"

The Gerudo woman's eyes widened before her expression became one of anger and frustration. It only lasted an instant; however, for soon she had pasted a look of meek complacence on her face and nodded. "Sebani not speak Gerudo?"

Arasha could tell it was taking a great deal of effort for the woman to be civil with her. She wondered whether she hated Hylians in general, or if there was something she disliked about Arasha in particular. She shook her head sadly in response.

The other woman's face formed into a mask of steeled determination, though her eyes gave away her irritation at having to perform such a task. "Zahri will teach Sebani." she said, pointing to herself. "…If Sebani wants." Her face was immediately meek once more.

Such a strange people; Zahri was obviously a servant, but she acted as though she were a warrior. She found herself wondering how the Gerudo system worked, if seemed very different from how she was brought up, but she thought better of asking Zahri, as she surmised it would be an incredibly touchy subject. "Thank you, Zahri. I would like you to teach me." She smiled gratefully at the older woman and picked a slice of cheese off the tray.

"Boar cheese?"

The Gerudo frowned before sighing slightly. "Cheese from beih. Beih can be angry, have long outside teeth."

Arasha nodded, beih must be the boar-like animals she had seen in the marketplace from above.

"Beih good for eat. Lots in desert. Meat called solmi." Zahri said.

The princess smiled, picking things off the tray as Zahri told her what they were, sometimes through clenched teeth, but always answering. The other woman had not taken even a slight glance at her body, and Arasha gradually became more comfortable and removed her other hand, stubbornly deciding to pretend that she was clothed just as well as the older woman.

"Ouch!" Arasha exclaimed, dropping the strange fruit that had pricked her fingers.

"Looa." Zahri explained, reigning in her laughter. "Must cut first." The Gerudo woman lifted the pear-like fruit from the stem and picked up the small knife on the tray. She peeled it quickly and handed the soft fruit to the Hylian woman.

Arasha took it warily; anything that harsh on the outside could not possibly taste good. She bit into it hesitantly and almost squealed in delighted surprise. It was incredibly sweet and soft. She stared at it in wonder, barely noticing that the other woman's frown had disappeared slightly.

"Looa best." Zahri said, her voice calm, almost soft, as though addressing a child.

Arasha did not mind, she felt very much like a child, and did not blame the other woman for treating her as such, up to a point.

Soon, the food was gone and Arasha hoped she could remember the names of everything.

"Zahri?"

The Gerudo woman turned her head. "Unya?—What?"

"What does laashka mean?"

Zahri's brown eyes widened slightly before a frown appeared once again on her hard face.

* * *

"Nabooru. The Hylians will be here by sundown."

The Gerudo woman sighed; she had known this day would come. Since the moment that the youngest Hylian royal had begun her training, she had known. "Ready a small party, we will ride out and welcome them."

The warrior left quickly, leaving Nabooru alone again. She hoped she could dissuade the Hylian monarchs from doing anything rash, as long a shot as it was. It seemed they had already made up their minds to fight Ganondorf to rescue their princess. Little did they know, they would be fighting against the very will of the goddess Din. It was futile. She would have her way; her chosen one would succeed this time.

She had seen Arasha's mind, and though it had been years, Nabooru knew the Hylian Princess was not against Ganondorf and would likely never be. If she was not now, there was nothing that could turn her against the dark warlord. She prayed she could convince the Hylians of this. There was no need to start bloodshed any earlier than necessary. There would be blood eventually, there had always been between their people and the people of the desert, but she hoped to avoid it as long as possible.

War was inevitable, whether Ganondorf had returned or not, but now that he has back and well alive, tensions between the two peoples threatened to explode, wiping out many before it would settle again.

Link and Zelda would not cease until they had stopped Ganondorf again, whether by resealing him in the sacred realm or by actually killing him; if it could even be done. Since that battle so long ago, she doubted that the ability to kill him permanently actually existed. The power he held made him nearly invincible, even when he was incapacitated. She wondered if he was still bent on taking over Hyrule; knowing the mind of their people, he would never change his mind. Gerudo hatred ran deep and strong. Every child was told the stories of those in the water lands and how they had taken their land, refused them aid, and drove them to die in the desert. Everyone knew; the desert never forgot. Instead, each spine in their side was sharpened to a jagged point by the harsh land. The Hylians on the other hand…they did not know the history. It had been lost to them. Their part had been forgotten, they only knew of the time after; when her people had lashed out against the Hylian lands, taking both provision and treasure until the famine had lifted from their lands.

Nabooru suddenly regretted the lies she had spoken to the young princess. She would certainly hear the truth from Ganondorf. He was quite fond of certain truths and readily gave them up, if only to witness the reactions they brought on. She hoped the hot-headed Hylian could forgive her. She had been protecting her and her own tribe. They were not to speak of the other clans; they were always to act as though there were no other clans. If the water lands had forgotten, that was their problem.

Nabooru fought to keep her head up out of her hands. She knew they would truly break away from the rest of their people this time. She could no longer hide the truth about the desert. She sighed again and rose to her feet, stepping down and toward the waiting party of horses just outside.

* * *

**A/N: I thought about putting the rest of Zahri's and Arasha's conversation in here, but I like the cliffhanger better! I feel so evil! =)  
So, the Hylian army comes closer, and the plot thickens.**


	10. The Partial Truths

**Chapter 10 – The Partial Truths**

Arasha felt her heart plunge as the Gerudo's face fell. If it made this woman frown…

"Sebani." Zahri said, her voice growing softer than Arasha thought possible for the woman. Her lips upturned into the closest thing to a smile Arasha had seen from her. "Laashka is best... Laashka… Sebani is Tanachti's laashka."

"Laashka is wife?" Arasha said quietly, trying to understand.

The Gerudo frowned. "Nama. But laashka more than wife. Laashka is best wife."

Arasha knew the older woman was trying to explain and struggling to find the Hylian words to describe the term. "Thank you, Zahri. I think I understand."

The Gerudo woman grunted in slight disbelief, returning to her normal hardened face, and left the Hylian woman alone.

Best wife? From what the Gerudo had managed to convey, it seemed that laashka was a word that conveyed favoritism. From the way Zahri's expression had changed, it was not a word that was thrown around often. The best wife… She knew Gerudo would often have multiple wives, but that was not why he had used the word. Perhaps…perhaps it was a word that meant the wife that is loved the most? She shook her head. Ganondorf did not love her, not like she wished he did. He cared for her certainly, but he did not love her.

Did he?

* * *

"Gerudo from the north!" The army began to stir at the scout's cry. Tension thickened the air and became almost tangible.

"Peace!" The king ordered over the murmurs of his men. "It is Nabooru."

The Hylian army continued to march as the small band of Gerudo women came toward the mass and quickly pulled alongside the royals to converse with the monarchs.

Link met Nabooru's dark features with a harsh glare. "Where is my daughter, Nabooru?"

The Gerudo woman sighed, bowing her head slightly. There was no escaping this now. She replied quietly, "Sixty leagues east of the colossus, in the cliff-city of the Wind Raiders clan." She hesitated before continuing. "It is only a guess, Link, but that was his father's clan. He would not come to us."

The king nodded stiffly. "Why did you not think to tell us the truth about your people?" He said, unable to keep all the hostility out of his normally calm voice.

"It was not my choice, you should understand that. We were no more allowed to speak of the other clans than you could speak of your alliances with us not so long ago. Even now, I am breaking ties with the other clans just by telling you these things. We will join your cause." She said with no hesitation. "Our lives are forfeit otherwise."

Link took a deep breath. He did understand why she had to keep it a secret. Secrets were a commodity that was often necessary for a ruler, depending on the circumstances.

"What else have you to say, Nabooru?" Zelda inquired, sensing the Gerudo had not said all that she wished.

The other woman tensed for a moment. "I said we would join your cause, it may become our only option, but it has not yet reached that point. I do not want it to come to that. You should not even be here. I urge you to return to Hyrule so that if you wish to fight, you may decide the battle ground. Your people may very well die before even reaching Ganondorf's stronghold. The desert is harsh, harsher than the small area you know. Your people have never fought here; my people were raised in this land. My people are born of war, Hylian, they will destroy you. The clans will unite against you, and most, if not all of you will die."

"I have seen the signs, Zelda." Nabooru turned to the queen, pleading in her eyes. "You know as well as I, the goddesses show us what will be. This is how it must be. This is how it will be. There are some things that would not be changed, and should not. Please think on this."

"Are you suggesting that we leave the princess to whatever fate that monster has in store for her?!" Arthur interjected angrily.

Nabooru glared at the Prince of Ordon. "You, none of you, know my people. We are far more complex than your own. Do not presume to know anyone, a Gerudo least of all. You have forgotten where we have come from. To answer your question; yes, that is exactly what I am _suggesting _you do. Some things are fated, and will happen no matter how you interfere."

"It sounds more like you are against us than for us, Nabooru." Arthur accused, returning the woman's glare.

Nabooru shook her head. "If you choose to fight, we will fight with you. I do not wish to cause more bloodshed that I know will happen, but if you are still not swayed...We will fight." Her fate was sealed. Her clan would no longer be a part of the Gerudo. The Hylians would choose to fight, but she was doubtful they would win against the desert-hardened Gerudo warriors.

"Very well." Link said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "I hear what you are saying Nabooru, but I will not abandon my daughter. Fate can be changed." He said, gaze drifting slightly to younger memories. "I trust I can rely on your expertise to get us through the desert with both man and beast fit to fight at the end."

Nabooru nodded, sharing a concerned look with Zelda. There were some things that could not be changed.

* * *

The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the sands. Arasha had found her way back up to the bedchamber and was standing quietly by one of the large windows, watching the sun plummet behind the dunes. The sky turned orange and pink before the sun disappeared completely in a flurry of reds and violets. Soon the sky was dark and stars began to twinkle throughout the sky. Lights flickered up from the houses beneath. Many of the merchants and traders lived above or below their stores, leaving the marketplace well lit despite its inactivity for the time of night. Arasha did not even think to light a lamp, the stars were mesmerizingly beautiful. Never had she seen them so bright. The air was so clear here when the wind settled.

She was torn out of her reverie by the sound of footsteps. Too heavy to be a servant's, Arasha turned and smiled, unsurprised, as Ganondorf entered the room, carrying a bright lamp.

The smile slipped from her face when she saw his creased forehead. It was a look she had never seen on his face. He looked…worried, and that concerned her. He was tired too, she knew that look all too well. She had seen it on her brother and her father many times. He glanced at her, his eyes softening, but his expression did not change.

Arasha could have sworn she heard him sigh as he sat to begin taking off his armor. Too concerned to be bothered by her nakedness, Arasha gingerly walked over to the large man and began to unlace his shoulder armor silently.

She had seen her mother and father when he had been like this, her mother would never say anything; she would only be right by his side. Ganondorf was nothing like her father, but he was still a man. One thing Arasha had noticed growing up, particularly with this man, was that men seemed to enjoy simple company; they did not always want to engage in conversation.

He pulled the armor off when she had finished and Arasha carefully began unlacing the leather cord that held the chest plate in place. She slipped it off easily once the laces were undone and noticed patches of sweat that had soaked through his tunic. He must have been sparring with some of the warriors in the training grounds. For all that armor, the heat never seemed to affect him, but he was not immune to sweating. She straightened, determined to take care of her husband, whether he wanted it or not. She made her way to the far doorway, where the washroom was. She lit the lamps along the wall and turned the lever that would send hot water into the bath basin.

Leaving the water to run and fill the tub, Arasha walked back into the main room where she was met by Ganondorf's stare. His face showed little expression; he just stared at her, his golden eyes following her every move as she came toward him. She wanted to say something, but did not know what. Perhaps silence was that best response for now.

He surprised her by breaking it first as she continued to help him out of his armor. "Kazak tani, laashka. Do you intend to bathe me like a child?" His voice was mild, she would have said he was amused if he did not sound so tired.

A blush appeared on Arasha's face. "Only if you continue to sulk like one."

A small smile graced his bronze features and he raised an eyebrow, but his fervor did not last as long as Arasha wished.

"I heard that Gerudo children play with dolls, shall I fetch you one?" She grinned shyly.

He chuckled, pulling his tunic over his head, leaving only his breeches on. "Girls play with dolls, Ara, and not even all of them do." He stood, and Arasha could tell that he was slightly stiff from the day's excursion.

"Yes." She replied, almost absentmindedly, "They are practically born with a sword in their hands, but you have already had your swordplay today." She frowned at him, fully ready to point to the bathroom and to don the face her mother used to use on her when she was being difficult.

He sighed softly before following her unsaid orders and disappearing into the other room. She smiled a few seconds later when she heard the tell-tale signs of him climbing into the tub. She followed him into the washroom and sat by his head, reaching down to knead his muscled shoulders. She could feel his muscles relax as her fingers moved back and forth, but she knew he was still tense.

"My father's coming, isn't he?" she asked quietly.

The Gerudo took a deep breath before letting it out again. "Yes." He said simply.

"I won't leave you." she assured him softly.

"I know." He replied, as gently as she had ever heard him speak. He leaned back, his head resting on her knees.

Arasha kissed his forehead, brushing stray hairs out of his face. She was shocked he was being so open with her, allowing her to care for him. She would have thought he would never have permitted it, especially after the events of the morning, but he was being more vulnerable with her than ever. She was going to revel in every minute before he shut her out again. She ran her fingers through his hair, gently kneading his scalp. He closed his eyes, appearing content in her arms, and a smile appeared on his face.

"After all, I am going to be king again, kings need heirs." His deep chuckle made her smile.

She looked down at him, surprised. She had never thought about children, she had not even considered that he might _like_ children. But…perhaps it had only been the Hylians, it had always been the Hylians he hated. She fleetingly wondered why, but let it pass, that was a question for a later time. He had told her he had many siblings, but she did not know how much he had cared for them. With seven sisters and more beside, it was a wonder she had not thought about his family before.

Arasha nodded, still pondering his words. She leaned over again and kissed his cheek, before grabbing a bar of soap and scrubbing his bright red hair.

"I can bathe myself, woman." he growled, but there was no threat in his voice.

If he had been a child, she would have said he was pouting. The more she thought about it, the funnier it was. She started to laugh, quietly at first, but her laughter soon echoed through the chamber. "Perhaps I will need that doll after all." Her eyes sparkled with mirth as she tried to reign in her laughter.

He turned to face her and opened his mouth to reply, but he had barely gotten out a syllable before she began to laugh again. Ganondorf crossed his arms. _What by Din was so funny?_

Arasha tried to stop laughing, but each time she opened her eyes she saw Ganondorf's increasingly sullen face coupled with his bright hair covered in bubbles and soap lather. He was just sitting there open-mouthed, and Arasha dissolved into giggles.

He stared at her incredulously. Had his father had to go through this confusion with his wives? He ran a hand through his hair and realized what had caused her to laugh. His eyes narrowed and he smirked, plastering a handful of bubbles onto the Hylian's face.

Still giggling, Arasha tried to frown at him, but she could not keep a straight face. Her feet flailed involuntarily, splashing warm water into Ganon's face.

She stopped suddenly when she saw his frown. He huffed and nonchalantly brushed the water off his face. Still frowning slightly, he picked her up off the stone floor and turned around, only to immediately dump her into the deeper water.

He laughed heartily as she came back up to the surface. It was her turn to pout as she brushed her sopping hair out of her face.

Ganondorf grinned and pulled her into his arms, cupping her face in his calloused hands, he placed a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead.

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**A/N: Aww. So cute =). Even evil warlords need a break sometimes. Arasha seems much more comfortable around him when he's calm, understandably, and it appears that the Hylians are not dissuaded in the least and are on their way. Stress seems to be fluctuating on all sides, but some truth is revealed though it as well.  
**See you next week!

-Sia


	11. The Night Before

**Chapter 11 – The Night Before**

Arasha awoke the next morning to find a stack of clothing on the table next to the bed. She grinned, not sure whether she was happier about having clothes again or that Ganondorf must have planned it from the beginning. There were several outfits in the stack, varying from traditional Gerudo garb to clothes that were much like the ones she had worn growing up, but more suited to the heat of the desert. They all looked as though they would fit her perfectly. She was tempted to put on the Gerudo clothing, but she had not been allowed that privilege when she had been with Nabooru's people. The older woman had told her she wished that it was not so, but many of the women still held onto the old principles and would have taken offence at her being so familiar with their customs. It had not been until she had been among them over a year that she was presented with her first set. She did not want to risk upsetting anyone, as new as she was to the country and its customs, so she chose the cotton skirts instead.

Gerudo were so vastly different than the Hylians. Arasha was afraid she would never learn all that she needed to know about them, but knowledge came with time and time was what she hoped she could have. Someday, she would know the people as well as she knew the people she had grown with. She wished that she could have had that time before they went to war. War with her people. She felt a stab of guilt; these people were going to war, they were going to fight and die for her. She was not so naïve as to believe that was the only reason, she knew they had their own agendas, but she was still uneasy about it. A thought plagued her mind; she felt she had the power to stop the fighting between the two peoples, but she dismissed it. She knew she could keep one side from attacking the other, but she could not stop both. Whatever happened, she would not leave her husband.

Her father was here for her, but neither he nor the Ordonian prince would take her away from him. She loved him, and he needed her, though he would never admit such a thing. He would certainly survive without her, but he would not be the same; if she was out of the picture, she feared he would turn into what the Hylians claimed he was from the beginning. She had seen him the previous night; he had not been concerned for himself, he was worried for her sake.

The Gerudo were a hard people, they were all born into conflict. There were few clans that did not fight over water or herds or even because of past wrongs. While blood feuds were not uncommon, they were much more likely to fight over water.

Ganondorf had spoken of his people the night before. He had told her mostly of warfare and what needed to be overcome in order to deal with the Hylian threat.

"_Will they not fight one another if put on the same battlefield?"_

"_Even blood feuds are put aside to combat invaders. It was not always so, and many paid the price for that stubbornness. They may not get along, but they will fight side by side to defend their lands."_

"_With so many bitter attitudes, it seems it would be impossible to unite them under one leader."_

"_It is not king as you have known. Your language has no word that truly fits to cover the position."_

_She paused thoughtfully. "What about the disputes between the clans?"_

"_The Kha'tanachti— Leader of chiefs is as close as Hylian arrives, but it does not convey the entire meaning— only takes the feuds in hand if they threaten to turn into war. The chiefs still lead, but leadership and acting a judge is only one small part of Kha'tanachti. The main function of the position is to protect. Whether from sword, famine, or occasionally, from themselves; to unite the clans when the need arises. Sometimes against invaders, and sometimes—"_

"_To invade…What are you going to do with the Hylians?_

His face had grown dark and he had tightened his jaw at her question. Arasha secretly wondered if he did not know what he was going to do with the other country if he won the war. Now that revenge was no longer as big of an issue. It was not the people who had imprisoned him, it had been her parents. Would he take his revenge on them and leave the country alone? She had no real idea, but it did not worry her as much as what the next few days could bring. He had absolved some of her fears with what he had said after, however.

"_It will be entirely dependent on how they choose to handle their diplomacy this time around. Hylians forget so quickly what their ancestors have done. We do not forget, Ara."_

"_They remember you."_

_He chuckled, but there was no humor in his sound; it was dark and hollow. "They remember only what they chose to. Only what directly affected them. You know their stories. They remember the cries of their children as they fled from monsters. There are two sides to every story."_

"_Their stories say you were driven by greed. That you only cared for power and wished to control the world; but I don't believe that."_

"_Don't you?" he replied, raising an eyebrow, a dangerous lilt in his voice._

"_Chaos for the sake of chaos, just as power for power's sake… they are madness apart, together even more so. You are not mad, Ganon. I don't think you have ever been." She said carefully. "You wanted revenge."_

_He unclenched his jaw. "It was thirty-eight years ago, there was famine here. People went mad with hunger, the children cried nightly in the streets. They were dying and there was nothing we could do. I survived on what I could find in the desert, but gave whatever I could to those who needed it more than I. My people, as you should know, hold honor above all else, though it is different than the honor you know. They would never accept help from a foreign power. They would rather die; and they had. I, against everything I stood for, went to the King of Hyrule for aid. I could no longer abide the children dying in the streets. We had already been reduced to a fraction of what we had been. He refused, saying we were paying for the sins of the past, and he would not go against the Goddesses' will." he snorted harshly._

_Tears welled up in Arasha's eyes and spilled down her cheeks. Her heart broke for the people of the desert. She felt sick; how could her grandfather have done such a thing? He had not seen the suffering, and perhaps he thought them to be exaggerating, but that was no excuse…To let the children die…_

"_I returned empty-handed. The famine did pass, but not until most of the young and almost all of the elderly had been gone weeks. It took years to recover. When I was sure I could leave and my people would survive, I came to Hyrule once again. You know the story from there."_

Arasha had spent much of the remainder of the night sobbing against Ganondorf's strong chest. She understood now why he hated the Hylian people, but she also understood that the hate went back so much further than her Grandfather and her husband. Greater than any Gerudo blood feud, there was something great and terrible that destroyed the relations between the countries and created such an animosity among them.

He had left early the next morning. Three days was the time he had to plan, he said. Arasha was grateful for the time he had spent to open up to her; he had kissed her softly before he left— before his face became hard and cold once more. She had stared at him, fleetingly wondering if his façade was real or not, the thought passed quickly, she knew it was. Never one without the other. He had noticed.

"_I do not regret my actions." A hard light gleamed in his eyes. "I will not hesitate to repeat them if given a reason. Do not think the Hylians lied to you about me." He smirked slightly, placing a searing kiss on her lips. "I am every bit of what they claimed. The only difference was my reason."_

_Grasping onto his bright hair at the base of his neck, Arasha replied, "I loved you before I knew any differently. Do not think that knowledge will change me. I know who you are; better now than before, but it is all you. The stories only paint one picture; never the whole."_

_A smirk still plastered on his face, Ganondorf turned to leave, "Go back to sleep, Ara. It is not yet dawn."_

Now trekking through the halls of the stone house, Arasha wondered if she could truly ever know the Gerudo people like she should. _Time_. She reminded herself, _Everything takes time._ A luxury it did not seem she would have soon, but she would take advantage of what remained of the calm before the storm; the storm was nearer than she wished. Looking down over the marketplace through one of the many windows she could see the city bustling with activity, among the merchants and weavers and musicians, warriors ran about, securing their needs and purchases before the march. The Hylians were coming much faster than she thought they could. The space between them was vast, but the Hylians were determined and moved as far as they dared each day. In two days the Gerudo forces were to leave to prepare for the impending battle. The Hylian force was still four days out, but Arasha knew that Ganondorf wanted the full advantage over them, and that required picking the terms of the engagement himself.

Watching the people below, Arasha realized that she had become one of the women who would see her husband off to war. She was not worried for him, certain he would return, but the Gerudo women could not be as sure of their husbands' returning. In many cases, men fought alongside their wives in battle, but those who were not warriors and women with children stayed behind. For how long? Hyrule had never truly been at war in Arasha's lifetime, and she had no idea how long a battle of this magnitude would last. Would it be days? Weeks? She certainly was not going to stay cooped up in the house with nothing but Zahri's harsh company for that length of time. She was going to go out and meet the people who were now hers. The people she would be with the rest of her life.

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**A/N: Sorry for the mid-week post, guys. My spring break is busier than my school weeks. I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing, I thought lines would break it up too much. **

**Cheers.**


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